#but that ain’t what this is actually about

[onehundredelevven]

Toji w/ preggy wife + out-of-this-world cravings

Toji stared at the counter. The ingredients you demanded sat before him like a challenge issued by the gods: instant ramen, whipped cream, peanut butter, and pickles. A lineup so vile it could send even the most daring chef into an existential crisis.

"Are you serious about this, or am I just getting pranked?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

You sat on the couch, legs crossed, a pillow pressed against your baby bump as you gave him the most innocent look in return. "Dead serious."

"You want ramen topped with this… stuff? And you're gonna eat it."

"Yup."

Toji groaned, running a hand through his dark hair. Of course, you had to pick this moment in your pregnancy to throw curveballs at him. The man was many things—an ex-hitman, a gambler, a loving yet blunt husband—but a gourmet chef? Not so much.

Still, he got to work. He boiled water, ripped open the ramen packet, and eyed the whipped cream like it might explode if he got too close. The sound of the kettle whistling filled the silence, but your voice broke through soon after.

“Don’t forget to add peanut butter! Like a lottt.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, spooning a glob of it into the pot and stirring like his life depended on it. The smell was… not great. Toji’s nose wrinkled in pure, unfiltered disgust. “You sure this ain’t gonna poison the kid?”

“It’s what the kid wants, Toji. I’m just the messenger,” you quipped.

When it was finally done—complete with pickles carefully arranged on top—Toji approached you with the steaming bowl in hand. He hesitated, watching your excited expression as you reached for it.

“I can’t believe you’re actually gonna eat this. You’re insane,” he muttered, plopping down beside you on the couch.

“Hey, you married me,” you shot back, grabbing the bowl and digging in with absolutely no hesitation.

Toji watched, equal parts fascinated and horrified, as you slurped up the ramen, the whipped cream melting into the broth in a way that should’ve been illegal. He leaned back, arms crossed, still trying to wrap his head around the scene.

“This is actually amazing,” you said between bites, offering him the spoon. “Wanna try?”

He recoiled immediately, glaring at you like you’d suggested he jump off a cliff. “Not in a million years, woman.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t knock it ‘til you try it!”

“Yeah, well, I’ll take your word for it.”

Despite his grumbling, he stayed by your side, handing you napkins, fetching water when you needed it, and even cleaning up after you finished. Disgusted or not, there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d let you handle it yourself.

Later that night, as you snuggled into him in bed, you mumbled, “Thanks for putting up with me. And the weird cravings.”

Toji pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hand resting protectively on your belly. “Tch. Don’t mention it. Just don’t ask me to eat that crap.”

But even as he complained, you knew he’d do it all over again if it made you and the baby happy.

[happeehippie]

instagram j.b.

summary: follow along with joe and his wife evie as they go through his football career.

*face claim yasmin quintana*

series masterlist

evie

liked by joeyb_9, millyg, and 982,028 others

evie: things i do, fits i wear, pics i take. oh.. and a little bday cake.

view all 1,839 comments…

user: not the body armor bottle.. 😳

> evie: i do not know that man.

user: happy birthday ev! you are such a bright light.

> evie: 😭💗

millyg: happy birthday my sweet baby angel evangeline. 🤍

> evie: ugh. i miss you mills.

joeyb_9: gotta stay hydrated

> evie: there is only one thing that will quench my thirst.. and it ain’t the drink. 😉

> lahjay10_: not again. get off the internet.

> user: not it being ev getting spicy in the comments this time.

> user: she’s been waiting for this moment.

joeyb_9

liked by lahjay10_, bengals, and 104,837 others

joeyb_9: hbd ev, i love every year of you.

view all 930 comments…

user: happy birthday qween

> evie: omg ur the qween! thank you. 💗

user: an evie post? absolutely not. get rid of it.

> evie: i knew the haters were going to love this one.

lahjay10_: happy birthday ev, lemme see you hit that griddy later yeah?

> evie: you sure you want me stealing your thunder like that?

evie: i love you, you big sap. thank you for celebrating me. 💗

> joeyb_9: you know i celebrate your life everyday, my wifey.

user: happy birthday, this city and joe wouldn’t be the same without you.

> evie: 🥺

user: joe whyyyy did you have to ruin the feed like this?

> lahjay10_: yall need to LAY OFF man.

sam_hubbard_: happy birthday ev! looking forward to celebrating you tonight.

> evie: *virtual hugs*

bengals: happy birthday mrs. burrow, the queen of the jungle!

> evie: i love my bengies so much.

evie

liked by joeyb_9, bengals, and 973,927 others.

evie: # WAG

view all 820 comments…

user: one of the best

> evie: kisses kisses

joeyb_9: the fit was killer today wifey

> evie: thanks hottie. 😘

user: the only WAG i follow. you’re my favorite.

> evie: you guys make my heart feel so full, im sending you love!!

user: how does one become joey b’s bed buddy?

> evie: hmmmm. i wouldn’t know considering i’m his WIFE. get a life and quit being a loser.

> user: i’m a loser? your man BARELY posts you, he doesn’t love you sis.

> evie: if all you have to worry about is wether someone is posting a picture of me on social media then yes, you are in fact a big ass loser.

> user: bro ev you do not play in these comments.

> evie: it gets to a point where the disrespect shouldn’t have to be tolerated. i’ve been in my relationship for over 8 years, and frankly joe or i don’t owe anyone an explanation about how we choose to navigate that publicly.

> lahjay10_: yo you tell em ev. you a little fighter i know you can scrap with all these haters.

> user: what’s even worse is i doubt joe will even acknowledge any of this

> user: he won’t because he’s just using her as a placeholder till something more interesting comes along. he doesn’t care.

> user: yall about to make this girl turn her comments off again.

> millyg: not too much on my girl???? what is happening right now? have you guys forgotten that like.. you don’t know this man?

joeyb_9

liked by bengals, sam_hubbard_, and 347,185 others

joeyb_9: hard fought

view all 1,839 comments…

user: he’s him

user: evie didn’t go to the game today. very unusual.

> user: well you lames were ripping her apart in her comments i wouldn’t want to go either.

user: a running qb

bengals: That guy! 🔥

user: chefs kiss

user: where is ev?

> user: probably in hiding

> user: she was all big talk in the comments and now she’s going to play scared?

> user: she was there, she posted on her story.

> user: you guys really don’t care about mental health do you?

*the comments on this post have been limited*

evie

liked by joeyb_9, millyg, and 921,002 others

evie: hopeless romantics. my jb.

view all 1,630 comments…

user: now she’s just rubbing it in.

> user: it actually makes me sick that they are married and she spoke to his fans the way she did. i hope he leaves her in the dust.

> joeyb_9: those were no fans of mine.

user: this is gross, after everything going on. you’re being petty and childish. posting pictures of your phony relationship.

user: i don’t think joe appreciates yall treating someone he loves like gum on the bottom of your shoe.

joeyb_9: everything is better with you. i would choose you over and over again, every chance i get. you’ll never be a placeholder to me. you’re my favorite place to go and i’d fight the universe if i had to. it’s not fair you have to deal with this because of me.

> evie: thank you for loving me..

millyg: this is so precious i kind of want to throw up.

> lahjay10_: i’m witchu mills.

evies stories:

should i continue making these or are yall bored now?

[tteotlma]

Trust in the Tension

--buried impulses flare into a fierce, unspoken surrender that no barrier can contain

"Nurse"!Logan x Patient!Reader (11.5kwc)

tw; 18+ MDNI; nsfw, power imbalance; caretaker/patient dynamic; dubcon (dubious consent); explicit sexual content; oral sex; choking; hair-pulling; biting; rough physicality; coarse language; mention of mental health struggles; tears/overwhelm.

a/n: PLS BE AWARE THIS IS A PIECE OF FICTION. (I AM DEEPLY AnD GRAVELY AWARE OF THE SEVERITY OF THIS SITUATION IRL BUT again THIS IS FICTION JUST HAVE FUN or skip.) i also didn't intend for this to be so long... but its been a month since my last fic

not edited entirely; pls like & reblog

Your vision pulsed to the sound of your heartbeat as you took in the scene around you.

You hadn’t asked to be here. 

The facility was nice— too nice. Plush furniture, warm neutral tones, windows big enough to let in the light but so obviously locked for safety. Despite the place feeling more like a high-end retreat, than a mental health facility that didn’t stop the feel of the walls caving in. 

Still in an unknowing state of shock you sat stiffly in the common room, arms crossed, back rigid, posture so straight it was almost defiant. It wasn’t lost on you that you were the only one not participating in whatever exercise the group facilitator had planned. 

You clenched your jaw as you stared straight ahead at the painting of random splatters on the far wall, the rest of the people fading away in the background. The painting, an aggressive array of white, red, and black splatters meticulously painted to convey some sort of emotion provided you a great sense of comfort. You couldn’t put your finger on what that feeling was but you could feel it— deep in the pit of your stomach. You felt the facilitator's eyes on you, but you ignored it trying to wrap your head around how you got here in the first place. 

It wasn’t voluntary, that's for sure. No, you were here because your parents begged, pleaded, and finally pulled out the we’re worried about you, sweetheart card. They’d finally worn you down, leaving you too exhausted to fight. 

Not that exhaustion was new to you. 

Professional Burnout was the sanitized phrase they’d slapped onto your file. As if snapping at a coworker who spent months undermining you somehow made you unstable. As if the outburst wasn’t deserved. 

One crack, you thought bitterly, and suddenly I’m the problem. 

The sound of heavy footsteps interrupted your brooding. You glanced up just in time to see a man step into the room, a clipboard in hand and a toothpick hanging lazily from his mouth. He was tall and rugged, with broad shoulders that stretched his uniform and thick sideburns that framed his jaw. He looked like he belonged anywhere but here—on a construction site, maybe, or some smoky dive bar.

His eyes caught yours, sharp and assessing. You didn’t look away, narrowing your gaze in return.

He stood there for a moment, the toothpick rolling between his teeth, sizing you up like he’d already figured you out. You hated it.

“Logan,” he said, finally breaking the silence. His voice was deep and gravelly, with a rough edge that matched his rugged appearance. He tapped the clipboard against his thigh, tilting his head slightly. “You got a name, or are we just gonna keep starin’ at each other?”

“Why do you care?” you shot back, folding your arms tighter across your chest.

His lips quirked, just barely. “Keeps things polite. But hey, if you’d rather I call you ‘sunshine,’ that works too.”

You glared at him. “It’s [Y/N].” 

“[Y/N],” he repeated, his tone deliberate, like he was committing it to memory. “Alright then, [Y/N]. Here’s the deal. I’m the orderly assigned to keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t go stir-crazy or claw anyone’s eyes out.”

You scoffed. “Charming.”

“Thanks,” he said, completely unfazed. “Let’s try something new—how about you actually join the group? Sitting there like a statue ain’t doin’ you any favors.”

“I’m fine right here,” you replied flatly, eyes drifting back to the splatter painting.

“Fine,” he echoed, his tone dripping with skepticism. “You keep tellin’ yourself that.”

He stepped closer, his boots heavy against the tiled floor. The closer he got, the more imposing he seemed, like he took up all the air in the room. “But here’s the thing, sweetheart. You can act all tough and keep everyone at arm’s length, but it doesn’t make the time go by any faster.”

You finally looked up at him, bristling at the way he loomed over you, like he was daring you to challenge him. “What’s your point?”

“My point,” he said, leaning in just enough to lower his voice, “is that I’ve seen plenty of people like you. Wound so tight you’re about to snap. Keep it up, and you’ll be stuck here a hell of a lot longer than you need to be.”

Your hands curled into fists, nails digging into your palms. “Maybe I like my space.”

His grin was infuriatingly small, almost imperceptible. “Sure you do. Let me know how that works out for you.”

And just like that, he turned and walked off, leaving you fuming. You weren’t sure if you wanted to yell at him or sink deeper into the chair just to spite him. Either way, you had the distinct feeling that Logan wasn’t going to make this easy for you.

—

Later that day you found yourself sitting in another goddamn plush leather seat. You sat stiffly in the chair, arms crossed and jaw tight as Logan settled into the seat across from you. He had the same clipboard as earlier, only now he looked far more official—still rugged and casual in demeanor, but with a sharpness in his gaze that said he wasn’t here to play around. 

“Alright (Y/N),” he started, clicking his pen. “This is just a standard intake. I know you did it before coming here, I just gotta get some background myself, so we know how to help you.” 

“Help me,” you muttered under your breath, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Logan raised a brow but didn’t take the bait. “First question: How are you feeling?”

You scoffed, leaning back in the chair. “Fantastic. Couldn’t be better.”

“Uh-huh,” he replied dryly, jotting something down on the clipboard. “We’ll circle back to that. What about your usual stress levels? On a scale of one to ten?”

“Zero.”

He glanced up, his expression unreadable. “And what do you usually do to blow off steam?”

The question caught you off guard. You hesitated, then shrugged. “I don’t know. Work. Run. Avoid people.”

Logan hummed thoughtfully, tapping his pen against the clipboard. “Not exactly workin’ out for you, is it?”

Your glare could’ve cut glass. “What’s your point?”

“No point,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was fighting a smirk. “Just gettin’ to know you.”

He finished scribbling and set the clipboard aside, leaning forward slightly. “Last question. You think you belong here?”

You faltered, his sudden intensity throwing you off balance. “What does it matter what I think? I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice low and steady. “But if you’re gonna be here, might as well make it worth somethin’. Otherwise, you’re just wastin’ your own damn time.”

The weight of his words hung in the air as he stood, gathering his clipboard and pen. “That’s it for now. I’ll see you around, sunshine.”

As he walked out, you couldn’t help but feel like Logan saw more of you in that brief exchange than most people ever did—and it unnerved you.

—

You felt the weight of Logan’s questions long after the session ended. Sure they were simple questions but it’s not like it wasn’t anything he couldn’t look up himself if he tried. The way his eyes had fixed on you, intense and unyielding, had unsettled you more than you cared to admit. You tried to shake it off, but it lingered like a bad taste, gnawing at the back of your mind. 

When you walked back to the common room, the group session was finally finishing up. Everyone slowly filtered out, but you stayed behind. You didn’t want to be around people—didn’t want anyone to see how much you were clenching your fists or how your jaw was tight enough to bruise. 

Sitting back down in your (un)claimed seat, you crossed your arms over your chest and leaned back to stare at the painting on the far wall. Your mind kept drifting back to Logan’s words, his calm, almost knowing demeanor. You hated how easily he had gotten under your skin. 

It wasn’t just the questions. It was the way he looked at you, like he understood everything without you saying a word. You didn’t want to think about that, either.

You stood abruptly, deciding a walk through the facility might clear your head. But when you stepped into the hallway, you saw Logan leaning against the doorframe to the lounge, a smirk barely hidden behind his usual indifference.

“Lost?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

You didn’t answer, trying to walk past him. You didn’t need another interaction, especially with him. But he moved just enough to block your path.

“You think you’re just gonna keep brushing me off, huh?” he said, voice low and amused.

“You really love to push buttons, don’t you?” You didn’t bother hiding the irritation in your voice.

His grin widened, but he didn’t press you further. Instead, his gaze softened, almost unreadable. “I don’t push buttons. I just call it like I see it.”

You glared at him, biting back a retort. But when he finally stepped aside, giving you space to walk past him, you couldn’t help but feel a weird mix of relief and frustration. 

—

The next time you saw Logan, it was in another session. Group therapy again. You’d kept your distance as much as possible, staying silent while the others participated. You weren’t interested in talking about your feelings—not to strangers and definitely not to Logan.

As the facilitator guided the group through an exercise, you sat stiffly, arms seemingly permanent crossed. You tried to block out everything and everyone, focusing on the wall in front of you. 

You were here, just like your parents had wanted. That should be enough. 

Logan had been observing you quietly, and when the session ended, he was the first one to walk over.

“You gonna keep that scowl on your face all day, or are you gonna get over yourself?” His voice was sharp, but there was an edge of concern underneath, like he was watching you closely.

You didn’t want to feel anything anymore, didn’t want to stay caught up in the mess of emotions or the frustration building inside you. “I’m fine.”

He didn’t believe you, and you could see it in his eyes. “You sure about that?”

Before you could snap back, the door to the group room swung open, and the others filed out. Logan stepped closer, his presence so commanding that you felt the air grow heavier around you.

“Why don’t we step outside for a second?” he suggested, his voice low and steady, like he was trying to coax you into something you didn’t want.

You glared up at him. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

But something in his eyes—some unspoken understanding—made you pause. Against your better judgment, you followed him out into the hallway.

Once the two of you were out of earshot from the others, Logan stopped and turned to face you. The air between you was thick, charged with something you couldn’t name.

“You’re acting like a kid,” he said bluntly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah? Well, maybe I’m just tired of pretending I’m fine when I’m not,” you shot back, your voice sharp and biting. The frustration you’d been holding in for days boiled to the surface, your words barely contained.

Logan’s gaze softened, but there was no judgment in his eyes. He was too used to dealing with people like you. “Yeah, I figured. You’ve got a lot of tension in you, huh?” His eyes trailed the length of your body. 

You didn’t respond, the anger started to bubble up again, your hands clenched at your side but something about his steady presence seemed to disarm you. Maybe it was the way he didn’t back off, didn’t try to force anything.

He only took a step closer, and for the first time, you didn’t flinch. His hand moved to your shoulder, the touch firm but gentle.

“I’m not here to push you, [Y/N],” he said, his voice low. “But you gotta know—holding all that in? It’s gonna eat you up.”

You sucked in a breath, trying to control the wave of frustration that threatened to overwhelm you. “I don’t need advice,” you muttered, feeling vulnerable in a way you hated.

“I don’t need advice,” you repeated, except the words coming out sharp, and defensive this time. You hated the way your chest felt tight, the vulnerability creeping in from where Logan’s hand rested on your shoulder. 

The warmth from his touch spread across your skin, and for a moment, it felt like it was sinking into your bones, grounding you in a way that made your stomach twist. You didn’t need anyone grounding you. You didn’t need him to make you feel this way.

Logan’s eyes softened just a fraction, but his expression remained steady, like he was waiting for you to crack. “You sure about that?” he asked again quietly, his tone almost too calm.

You felt it then, the tension pooling inside you, the anger at yourself for even considering his words. You were independent. You didn’t need anyone to fix you. You hadn’t needed anyone before to figure things out. And you especially, didn’t need some wannabe shrink to start telling you how to manage your life.

Without thinking, you grabbed his hand and removed it from your shoulder. You did it quickly, as if his touch burned you, trying to ignore the way his heat lingered on your skin. You told yourself it was about reclaiming your space, but deep down, you couldn’t deny the way you resented the way his warmth had made you feel—like you weren’t enough on your own, like you needed him, and it made you bitter.

You didn’t meet his eyes as you moved away. The weight of his gaze felt like too much, like he could see right through you. “I’m fine,” you muttered for what seemed like the umpteenth time, turning away before he could say anything more, before you could let him see how much you were feeling.

Each step you took away from him was deliberate, quick. You weren’t going to let him break you down, weren’t going to let him see how much you wanted the relief he might even be able to offer. You didn’t need him. You’d never needed anyone, not like that.

The hallway stretched out in front of you, a quiet reminder that you could handle this—you could handle this.

—

The next few days passed in a haze. Every session, every group exercise felt like you were just going through the motions, barely containing the storm brewing inside you. You could still feel Logan’s hand on your shoulder, the way it had made you feel both furious and small, and it gnawed at you. You told yourself you were fine, but the anger lingered, thick like smoke in your lungs.

You were sitting in the group room again, the usual chatter around you fading into white noise. Your focus was elsewhere—just trying to survive the hour without having to say a word. You were about to tune out completely when you heard it.

“She’s just another fucking drama queen.”

The voice came from across the room, a low murmur between two of the other patients. You didn’t need to hear more. You already knew they were talking about you. The words were sharp, cutting through the air with a venom that dug deep into you.

You snapped your gaze in their direction, fury immediately surging through you. The mocking tone, the casual dismissal—it was too familiar, too reminiscent of the shit you’d put up with at your last job. You could feel the rage flooding your chest, hot and suffocating. It was a sensation you knew too well, one that had always pushed you to the edge before.

And now, it was back.

The room started to shrink around you. The noise of their laughter, the snickers, the sideways glances—all of it evaporated as your anger took over. Your fists clenched so tightly your nails dug into your palms.

You didn’t care anymore. You needed to make it stop. You needed to hit something. You tried grounding yourself, but it was too late. Your body had already taken over. Your legs were pushing you forward, jumping over your seat in a split-second decision. You saw red, your entire body screaming for release, for someone to just stop dismissing you. But before you could close the distance, a firm hand shot out, grabbing you mid-air.

“Hey!” Logan’s voice cut through the chaos in your mind—or in the room, it was hard to tell—his voice sharp and commanding.

You felt his strong arms wrap around your waist—hard, like steel, pulling you back. You let out a shout of frustration, trying to twist free, but Logan’s grip didn’t falter. It was like he was two steps ahead, as if he had already anticipated your move, as if he knew exactly what was about to happen. His voice was in your ear now, low and unwavering.

“[Y/N], enough,” he said, his tone hard but not cruel. “This isn’t the way.”

Before you could even process what was happening, Logan yanked you backwards with a force that left you no room to fight it. In an instant, he’d pulled you out of the room, dragging you down the hallway with such speed that no one could have comprehended what just happened. There was a stunned silence behind you as you were pulled out of the room, your feet barely touching the ground as Logan kept a firm hold, his steps echoing through the hallway.

“Let me go!” You tried to struggle, to twist your way free, but his grip tightened, holding you firmly as he pushed you further from the group.

“No,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Not until you calm down.”

You were breathing hard, the adrenaline coursing through you. Your pulse was a drum in your ears, and you could feel the heat of your anger radiating off you in waves.

“I don’t need you to babysit me,” you spat, still trying to break free. “I don’t need your fucking help!”

You tried to tear his arm away, but Logan’s grip tightened, his body pressing into yours as he moved with precision, dragging you down the hallway without a word. The moment you realized what was happening, the reality of it hit you like a punch to the gut. Your anger, your rage—it all crashed down as you found yourself being physically restrained, the helplessness burning in your chest.

He didn’t say a word as he pulled you down another hall, his face impassive, but you could feel the tension in his body as if he was just as ready to snap as you had been moments ago. But he wasn’t letting you. He wasn’t letting you lose control.

“Let me go!” you snarled, struggling against his grip, but again, Logan didn’t even flinch. He kept moving, keeping you contained, his presence too overwhelming for you to break free from.

When he finally stopped, it was in a hallway, somewhere far enough from anybody that no one would hear you—no one would witness how you’d almost cracked. He barely released his hold on you, but not before pushing you back against the wall, his body still towering over you, blocking your every escape route.

“Take a breath,” he said, his voice low and steady, like he was speaking to someone who might break apart at any second.

His grip on your arm softened, but only just enough for you to feel the tension in his hand. He wasn’t letting go, but he was giving you space to breathe, to calm down if you could.

“You’re better than this. So stop acting like a fucking fool, [Y/N].” He said, his voice lower now, almost like a warning.

Your chest was still heaving, your body still tense with frustration, but hearing him say that—hearing him treat you like more than just a hothead, like you were capable of something better—suddenly made it all feel worse. The tears you’d been holding back started to burn at the back of your eyes, and you hated yourself for it. Hated that you felt so weak, so fucking out of control.

But Logan wasn’t looking at you like you were broken. He wasn’t judging you, even though you knew you deserved it. He was just… there. Silent. Waiting.

You wrenched yourself out of his grip (despite both your dismay) and took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to regain some composure.

“Just… don’t touch me,” you muttered, your voice raw and unsteady.

Logan said nothing. He didn’t have to. The silence between you was thick with something unspoken, something neither of you could easily put into words.

But it didn’t matter. You couldn’t let it matter. Not now.

You turned and walked away, not looking back. 

You barely took a few steps before the frustration began to bubble up again. You had only just started to walk away from Logan, but the moment you stepped around the corner and out of sight, it felt like the world was pressing in on you again.

The laughter from the group still rang in your ears. “Drama queen.” The words clawed at your skin, digging into you like a constant reminder of everything you hated—being dismissed, being belittled.

You were done. You couldn’t keep holding it in. Your fists clenched, nails digging into your palms as you spun on your heel, slamming your hand against the wall. The sharp sound of your palm against the cold surface echoed in the hallway, but it wasn’t enough. The rage, the helplessness—it was all too much.

“Fuck!” you hissed, breath coming in sharp bursts as you stared at the spot where your hand had just struck the wall, feeling the dull sting radiating through your knuckles. 

You couldn’t keep it together anymore. It was too much. You were tired of being on the edge, of trying so damn hard to be perfect at everything—at work, at life, at keeping it all together. Everyone depended on you to do everything. Always being there, and put together.

But right now? You didn’t want to be. You didn’t want to hold it in anymore. Your body was shaking with the weight of it all—the frustration of being forced to be something that was overwhelming, the anger at yourself for letting it all pile up until you exploded.

You wanted to break. You wanted to let go—but you knew you couldn’t. You couldn’t afford to. You’d kept it locked away for so long, keeping everything in check, trying to make sure no one saw the truth behind the mask. Who knew what would happen if you let yourself slip away, even just a smidge. You were already forced to be somewhere you didn’t want to be, you couldn’t risk losing anything else. But the anger… the helplessness… It was too much. You were suffocating, and you couldn’t breathe anymore.

And that’s when it hit you: This is why you were here.

You couldn’t handle it. You couldn’t keep pretending that you had it all together. You were falling apart at the seams, and the pressure—the pressure of trying to control everything—was finally breaking you.

You spun around, not knowing what you were doing, just feeling the surge of emotions all crashing in. You needed to hit something again, harder. You needed to feel something, anything, that would make it stop. But before you could even move an inch, a voice cut through the chaotic storm inside your mind.

“[Y/N]?”

It was Logan.

You didn’t even turn to look at him. You didn’t want him to see you like this. Hell, you didn’t even want to see yourself like this.

“Leave me the fuck alone,” you snarled, voice hoarse as the tears welled up, but you fought them back. Not yet. Not here. Not now.

But Logan was already there. In an instant, his hands were on you, trying to turn you, pulling you against him, his arms firm and unyielding. You tried to twist, to pull away, but his grip was too strong. And it wasn’t that you didn’t want to break—because you did.

But you couldn’t let him see it. You couldn’t let anyone see how much you were falling apart. You were so fucking tired of pretending to be fine, you were ready to break but not in front of him.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Logan tried to pacify your struggles, as his hold on you failed to waver. It wasn’t like before. It wasn’t about controlling you. His presence was heavy—comforting in a way you hadn’t let yourself experience in so long.

The tears came the more you struggled in his grip, despite all your efforts. Hot and fast, they burned your face, dripping onto the linoleum floor, and there was nothing you could do to stop them. You wanted to stop them. You hated it. You hated feeling this weak.

But Logan just held you as your body went slack. His grip tightened, pulling you into him. Not to silence you, not to force you to do anything, but to hold you steady, to keep you from falling completely apart.

“I told you not to touch me,” you choked out through the tears, voice breaking as you finally let yourself give into him, your body shuddering against his. You were shaking—not just with the anger anymore, but with the helplessness that had been buried so deep.

You tried once more to push him away, weakly, but it was like fighting against a wall. His chest was too solid. His presence was too overwhelming. You didn’t want to feel it. You didn’t want him to see the cracks.

But there was no escaping it now. The reality of everything you’d been holding inside came rushing at you, and it hurt. It hurt more than you could even process.

Logan didn’t speak. He didn’t try to fix anything. He just let you break in silence. His arms around you were steady, not demanding. They didn’t try to pull you back from the edge. They simply were. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself breathe as you were.

When he finally loosened his grip and you finally pulled yourself away from him, still sniffling, you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes. You couldn’t look at him like this.

“Please, don’t touch me anymore,” you muttered, voice shaky, and with that, you turned away, your feet dragging as you walked down the hall. You didn’t look back. Not once.

But you knew, in that moment, something had shifted between you. Something in you had cracked.

And Logan knew it too. He didn’t stop you this time. He didn’t chase you. He just let you go.

The silence in the hallway hung heavy in the air after you walked away. Logan stood there for a long moment, the weight of the last few minutes settling over him. He hadn’t expected the tears, the rawness that tore through you, but the way you’d fought it all—fought him—made something click in his mind.

He didn’t follow you. He didn’t try to force anything. Instead, he gave you space. Because deep down, he understood.

He didn’t move from where he stood immediately. He wanted to give you time. You needed it. Needed to process it all.

When he finally did move, it was slow. The hallway was too quiet now, too empty. His hand rested on the wall, his mind replaying the moments that had just passed, trying to piece everything together. What did you need? He hadn’t known before, but now? Now, something was different.

—

It had been a few days since you’d broken down in the hallway. Logan hadn’t pushed you since, letting you process things on your own, but he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. About you. About the way you’d finally let your guard down, even if just for a moment, before retreating again. He’d stayed close but careful, offering support in quiet ways, waiting for you to let him in.

You walked into your room, your steps slow, your mind racing. As you sat on the edge of your bed, you couldn’t stop the image of Logan holding you from replaying over and over in your head. The warmth of his embrace still lingered on your skin, even though you had pushed him away.

A soft knock at your door interrupted your thoughts.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. You knew who it was but, if you looked at him again, you weren’t sure you could hold it together. You needed space. You needed time.

Another knock. A little louder this time.

You dragged a shaky breath into your lungs, wiping your face with the back of your hand. You hated this—hated the fragility of it all. But the pressure inside you hadn’t subsided. You could feel the ache in your chest, the pull to break again.

“[Y/N]?” Logan’s voice came through the door, low, steady. “Can I come in?”

You stayed quiet. You wanted to tell him to leave you alone. You wanted to shut him out. But you couldn’t. You knew deep down you didn’t want him to go away. Not now. Not after everything.

The door creaked open slowly, and Logan stepped inside, his eyes cautious. He didn’t push, didn’t say anything. His presence was still heavy, but it wasn’t demanding. The door shut behind him with a soft thud, followed by a small discernible click. 

He didn’t ask if you were okay. He didn’t offer any words of comfort. He just watched you, letting the silence hang between you. You felt the familiar heat rising in your chest, the uncomfortable feeling of being seen too clearly, but this time, it wasn’t like before. He wasn’t trying to fix you.

You could feel the distance between you. He was there, but he wasn’t pushing.

He shifted, taking a step closer, but not too close. It was a subtle offer, a quiet invitation.

The silence stretched between you like a taut string, every breath you took loud in the otherwise still room. Logan didn’t rush you. He just stood there, his hands loose at his sides, his presence calm, steady, like an anchor in the storm of your thoughts.

“I thought I told you to leave,” you said, your voice wavering despite the steel you tried to inject into it.

His lips twitched, a barely-there smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You didn’t say a word, sunshine. Just figured you might need someone who’ll stick around—Help take care of you.”

You hated how much his words hit the mark, hated how the rawness inside you stirred at the idea that maybe, just maybe, he was right.

Logan took another step closer, his boots soft against the floor. The click of the lock earlier seemed louder now, echoing in your mind.

“You’re my nurse,” you whispered, like a warning, but your words lacked conviction.

“I am,” he agreed, his voice low but even. “And that means takin’ care of you, even if you fight me on it. Especially if you fight me on it.” The tone in his voice emphasizing the last part—as if the fight you put up brings a rush to his blood. 

You scoffed, your instinct to push him away rearing its head. “This feels like more than taking care of a patient.”

His gaze softened, but it didn’t waver. “Maybe. But does it matter? You’re not by yourself anymore—not in here. You don’t have to keep pretending you’re fine when you’re not. Let me help you.”

Your breath hitched, the weight of his words sinking in. He saw too much, and yet, you didn’t feel the urge to run. You felt… understood. The wall you’d built around yourself since arriving finally cracked, just enough for his steady gaze to slip through.

“You don’t get it,” you muttered, shaking your head, your hands clenching the edge of the bed. “I’ve always had to hold it together. Always. If I let go—” Your voice broke, a sharp crack in the stillness.

“You won’t fall apart,” Logan interrupted, his tone firm but not harsh. He crouched down in front of you, his hands resting on his knees, his body just close enough to block out everything else. “You’ve been doin’ this on your own for too long. Let someone else shoulder some of it.”

His hand lifted slowly, giving you time to pull away, but you didn’t. His fingers brushed against yours where they gripped the edge of the mattress, the warmth of his touch grounding you.

“Logan…” Your voice trembled, a mix of warning and plea.

“I’m here,” he murmured. “Just let me help.”

You closed your eyes, trying to pull yourself together, but the heat radiating from him was impossible to ignore. The way his thumb traced over your knuckles was gentle, but there was an unspoken promise in his touch.

He shifted closer, his legs brushing against yours now. The tension in the air thickened, your pulse quickening as his steady gaze roamed your face. There was something in his expression—something deeper than concern. His job might have brought him here, but the way he looked at you was anything but professional.

“Logan,” you said again, this time softer, your voice barely a whisper.

He leaned in slightly, the rough edge of his voice brushing against your skin. “Let me in, sunshine. Just this once.”

Your walls wavered, the vulnerability threatening to spill over. The ache in your chest was unbearable, the pull to let go stronger than your fear. He wasn’t just offering to help; he was offering himself.

Your breathing grew shallow as his hand slid up, his fingers curling lightly around your wrist, pulling your hand away from the bed and into his. You opened your eyes as you let him guide you, avoiding all chances to truly look him in the eyes, his movements slow, and deliberate, until your hand rested against his chest.

He shifted and his other hand found your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a slow, grounding motion. “Let me take care of you. All you’ve gotta do is trust me, sunshine.”

Your lips parted, words caught in your throat as his thumb slid lower, grazing your bottom lip. You froze, your mind racing, but Logan didn’t push further—he just waited, his touch firm but patient.

The shift was subtle, but it was there—the change in the air between you. He wasn’t just offering comfort anymore. He was asking for surrender, for trust in the most intimate way.

And God help you, you were ready to give it to him anything he asked for. 

The tension between you crackled, thick and electric, but his touch remained steady, grounding. Logan’s thumb brushed the curve of your cheek, slow and deliberate, before tracing the edge of your jaw. His movements weren’t hurried—there was no rush, no demand—just an unspoken invitation.

“See?” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, like he was coaxing you down from a ledge. “Ain’t so hard to let someone else take the reins for a bit, is it?”

Your breath hitched as his fingers trailed down, brushing the side of your neck. The warmth of his palm lingered, the weight of his hand firm enough to quiet the chaotic swirl in your mind, but not enough to drown out the muffled sounds of people passing by your door.

“I… I don’t know how,” you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

Logan huffed a soft laugh, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “Yeah, you do. You’re already doing it.”

His fingers shifted, sliding to the back of your neck, and you leaned into the touch before you could stop yourself. He drew you closer, just enough to feel his presence envelop you entirely. Your knees brushed against his thighs where he stood in front of you, and the heat radiating off him was impossible to ignore.

“Relax that jaw of yours,” he said, his tone still light but with a teasing edge. After caressing the nape of your neck his hand comes back to your jaw and squeezes until your lips part.  “You’ve been clenching it so tight, it’s a wonder it hasn’t locked up yet.”

You blinked at him, caught between embarrassment and curiosity. His eyes, dark and steady, met yours, and for a moment, you swore he could see straight through you.

“C’mere,” he murmured, tugging gently on your wrist until you slid closer towards him.

The shift brought your bodies even nearer, his hands bracketing your thighs now, his thumbs brushing circles over the fabric of your pants. His touch was careful but deliberate, testing your boundaries while coaxing you further out of your shell.

“Let me take the lead,” he said softly, his voice dipping lower, more intimate.

You swallowed hard, feeling the ache in your chest ease as something entirely new unfurled in its place. Trust. Need. A quiet kind of surrender you didn’t know you were capable of.

“How?” you finally gave in and asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s lips quirked into a small smirk, but his gaze stayed steady, unwavering. “Like I said… starting with that jaw.”

His hand moved, knuckles grazing your chin as his thumb pressed gently against the corner of your mouth. The motion was slow, teasing, giving you plenty of time to pull back. You didn’t.

“Open up for me,” he murmured, his words a low rumble that sent a shiver racing down your spine.

The command was quiet, laced with care, but the underlying edge of authority had your pulse spiking. Your lips parted instinctively, your breath shaky as his thumb slid along the inside of your bottom lip.

“Good girl,” he murmured, the praise slipping out like it belonged there.

The words hit you harder than you wanted to admit, warmth pooling in your chest—and lower.

Logan shifted closer, his other hand steadying your jaw as he studied you, his expression unreadable but intent. “We’ll take it slow,” he said, his thumb retreating as he brought his hand to the hem of his pants. “Just let me guide you.”

Your breathing hitched as your eyes flicked down to his hands, the way his fingers deftly worked the knot of his drawstring pants. The quiet rustle of the fabric filled the space between you, a sound that felt louder than it was.

Logan’s movements were deliberate, unhurried, as though he was waiting for any sign of hesitation from you. When your gaze lifted to meet his, you saw no rush, no impatience—just the same steady calm that made it impossible not to trust him.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he murmured, his voice grounding you even as it sent your pulse racing.

You swallowed hard, your jaw relaxing further at his words, at the way his presence seemed to envelop you completely. His hand returned to your chin, tilting your head up slightly, his thumb brushing against your skin.

“Atta girl,” Logan praised softly, his lips curving into a faint smile, as his thumb caressed your skin. “That’s it. Just breathe for me.”

The tension that had coiled so tightly in your chest loosened a fraction as you exhaled shakily. His fingers traced along your jawline, the touch soothing and deliberate, coaxing you to focus on him and nothing else.

When his drawstrings tangled free, Logan leaned in closer, his free hand bracing against the edge of the bed beside you. His proximity was overwhelming in the best way, his warmth and scent filling your senses.

“This ain’t just about me, sunshine,” he said, his voice low and sure. He takes one hand, and brings it to your neck. His thumb finds the pulse point beneath your jaw and he brings you in closer. “This is about you learning to let go. To stop holdin’ on so tight it hurts.”

You nodded faintly, swallowing against his palm, your body responding before your mind could catch up. There was no space for second-guessing, no time for overthinking—not with the way Logan looked at you, like he already knew exactly what you needed.

“Good,” he murmured again, his tone like gravel smoothed by honey. “We’ll go slow, but I need you to trust me.” He nuzzled the side of your head, his breath tickling your skin as he slowly let go of your throat. 

Logan’s hands moved, sliding down to catch yours. His touch was firm but not forceful, the rough calluses on his palm grounding you as he pulled your hands away from your lap. He brought them up, pressing them flat against his chest.

“Feel that?” he asked, his voice low and steady as your fingers splayed over his warm skin through his shirt. His familiar heartbeat thrummed steadily beneath your touch, grounding you, centering you. “That’s all you gotta focus on. Just me. Nothing else matters right now.”

You nodded faintly, the tension in your shoulders coming to a still as he kept your hands there for a moment, letting you adjust.  Suddenly, a loud slam down the hallway caused you to jump and turn towards the door. He quickly grabbed your chin forcing you to look at him. “What did I just say?” He quirked, all you could do was look at him, heat blooming from your neck up. 

Then, slowly once he made sure you weren’t looking away, he began guiding your hands downward.

The motion was deliberate, unhurried, as though every inch was a silent reassurance that you could stop at any time. His hands covered yours, his thumbs brushing the backs of your knuckles as he slid your palms down the planes of his torso, over the firm muscle beneath his shirt, until they rested against his hips.

Logan gave you a beat to take it in, his gaze locked on yours. His breathing was measured, but you could see the faintest flicker of tension in his jaw, the restraint he was holding onto so tightly.

“Still good?” he asked, his voice dropping lower, rougher now.

“Yes,” you murmured, barely trusting your voice as heat pooled low in your belly. You unconsciously squirmed, in anticipation, in heat who knew.  

Logan nodded, his lips twitching into something that wasn’t quite a smile but carried the same weight of approval. He waited, giving you one last chance to back out before guiding your thumbs to join his, beneath the elastic of his scrub pants.

“Easy,” he murmured, the word a quiet reminder as he guided your hands to push the fabric down slowly, exposing more of his skin. The sliver of skin burned against your fingers as you ghosted them along his body. His abdomen tensed under your touch, his breathing shifting slightly as he exhaled through his nose.

Logan let the pants hang low on his hips, one hand trailing up to cup your jaw again, tilting your face up to meet his eyes. “We’ll go nice and slow,” he said, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth again. “No rush, sunshine. Just follow my lead.”

With that, he took your hands again, guiding them lower until they brushed the waistband of his boxers. His movements were steady, deliberate, as though showing you exactly where he wanted you without rushing you.

“You feelin’ brave?” he teased softly, the faintest smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, though his eyes held nothing but warmth and patience.

You nodded again scooching closer to the edge of the bed, and the brink of insanity, your chest tightening with anticipation. His smirk deepened, and he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“Then show me, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Let me see what you can do.”

Logan eased back slightly, just enough to give you room to move, but his hand lingered on yours, a steadying presence as he guided your touch. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his waistband, and with a deep breath, you pushed the material down further, revealing more of him inch by inch.

The air between you grew heavier, the tension palpable as his arousal became impossible to ignore. Logan’s hand left yours, but only for a moment, trailing up to brush a stray strand of hair from your face before cupping the back of your neck.

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart.” he murmured, his voice warm and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. His thumb traced lazy circles at the base of your skull, grounding you as his other hand rested atop your forearm, giving you control but silently encouraging you to keep going.

You shifted slightly, your hands trembling as they moved to rest on his hips again. Logan watched you closely, his gaze steady but dark with something you couldn’t quite name. His chest rose and fell in a slow, measured rhythm, as though he were holding himself back, letting you set the pace.

When your hands brushed the bare skin of his hips, Logan inhaled a shaky breath, a faint sound escaping him that made your pulse spike. He leaned in, his lips ghosting over your temple as he murmured, “Don’t overthink it. Just take what you can, sunshine. I’ll guide you through the rest.”

Your fingers curled into his skin as you leaned forward, your breath brushing against his lower abdomen. Logan’s hand slid from your neck to your shoulder, a subtle but firm anchor as he shifted slightly, giving you better access.

“Atta girl,” he praised, his voice barely above a whisper. The words sent a wave of warmth through you, and you felt your hesitation ease, replaced by a quiet resolve to follow his lead.

Logan’s hand moved again, this time to rest over yours as he guided one of them lower. He didn’t stop until you were cradling the solid weight of him. Your touch lightly teasing the ache that pulsed beneath your trembling hand. Logan guided your hand to palm the rigid heat beneath his clothes,  wrapping your fingers around him. A sharp inhale escaped his lips, and you felt the faintest tremor in his muscles as your touch sent a jolt through him. 

“Slow,” he reminded you, his voice tight but still soft. “Just like that.” 

The tension between you was thick enough to cut with a knife, every shift of his body, every measured breath, drawing you further into the moment. Your fingers trembled as they traced the contours of his arousal, the fabric of his boxers doing little to disguise the heat and weight beneath. Logan’s grip on your shoulder tightened slightly, not in impatience but as a subtle reassurance, his silent way of telling you that you were doing exactly what he wanted.

His hips shifted just barely, an almost involuntary reaction to the way your hand brushed against him. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp that sent a shiver down your spine. His thumb traced another soothing circle at the base of your neck, the grounding motion a stark contrast to the fire building between you. “You’ve got me, sunshine. Just keep going.”

Emboldened by his words, you pressed a little firmer, your palm smoothing over the outline of him, taking your time to explore every inch. The way he exhaled sharply, the muscles in his abdomen tensing beneath your other hand, made you feel a surge of confidence. You dared to glance up at him, and what you saw made your breath catch. His head was tilted back slightly, his jaw tight, the faintest flush coloring his cheeks. His eyes, though darkened with desire, never left yours, his focus sharp and unwavering.

“You’re taking  your time, huh?” he teased, his smirk returning, though it was tinged with a rawness that made your chest tighten. “Not that I’m complaining.”

You swallowed hard, your hand faltering for just a moment before finding its rhythm again. His reaction—the way his body leaned into your touch, the low sound he made in the back of his throat—was intoxicating. It spurred you on, your fingers brushing the waistband of his boxers again before slipping just beneath, your fingertips meeting bare skin.

You felt him twitch ever so slightly, and your cheeks twinged with excitement. There was something happening inside of you that you weren’t quite sure what to think of it. You knew what Logan was doing would’ve been demeaning as hell anywhere else, but here, now… all you wanted to do was give in, succumb to whatever it was he wanted you to do. He asked you to trust him, and so far he hasn’t shown you a reason not to. 

Your heart thudded in your chest as the realization hit you: you wanted this. More than anything, you wanted to give yourself over to him, to see what it felt like to let someone else carry the weight for once. If his touch—barely there—was enough to leave you trembling, what else could he make you feel? What more could he show you?

The thought sent a rush of heat through you, your breath quickening as your fingers finally curled around the rigid, throbbing length of him, pressing more firmly against his strained need. Logan’s soft groan rumbled through the air, stirring something deep in your chest—a quiet, unfamiliar hunger that threatened to consume you. You let yourself sink into it, letting the weight of the moment guide your movements, every brush of your touch unraveling a part of you you didn’t know existed. 

“Good,” Logan murmured, his voice warm and gravelly, the rough edge of it sending a shiver down your spine. “Just like that, sunshine. You’re doin’ perfect.”

You inched closer to the edge of the bed, the pull to be nearer to him overwhelming, almost instinctual. Kneeling now, you practically sank toward the floor, chasing the heat radiating from his body like you couldn’t bear the space between you.

Logan shifted, and before you could fully close the distance, he was pulling back. The loss of contact jarred you, a quiet whine of protest nearly escaping before you caught yourself. His hand came to rest on your shoulder, firm but gentle, stopping you in your tracks.

“Here,” he said, his voice low and steady. In one smooth motion, he grabbed a pillow and tossed it to the ground between the two of you, the soft thud breaking the tension for only a split second.

Your gaze snapped up to meet his, eyes wide, blown out with something you couldn’t quite name—but it was there, raw and undeniable. The way he’d stopped you, how casually he’d thrown the pillow down, like he knew exactly what you needed before you did—your chest tightened, and your jaw slackened just slightly. You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry, yet you swore you could taste the heat rolling off him.

Logan’s eyes flickered down to your throat as you swallowed, the barest hint of amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth. He let out a low, rough chuckle—one that felt like gravel and smoke—and before you knew it, his hand was cradling the back of your neck, fingers splaying out against your nape and jaw in a way that had you forgetting how to breathe. The strength in his grip was tempered with something careful, deliberate, and when he tugged you forward, you melted into it willingly, chasing the pull like it was magnetic.

His lips found yours in an instant, the kiss deep and consuming, all heat and desperation that made your head spin. Logan kissed you like he was trying to unravel you, his mouth moving against yours in a way that left you pliant and eager, gasping against him. With every subtle pull of his hand, you followed, inching forward without thought, his control and your surrender melting together.

When you opened your eyes again, you were on your knees on the pillow, face to face with the aching strain beneath the thin fabric of his boxers. You blinked up at him, lips kiss-swollen, as the realization coursed through you, heat prickling at the back of your neck. Logan watched you closely, his thumb brushing slowly along your jaw where his hand still lingered, as though grounding you there—reminding you that this was him, guiding you, coaxing you forward.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, his voice dark and edged with something thick and raw. His thumb dragged along your lower lip, smirking when he noticed you shiver. “Go on. Hold me again, sweetheart.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Your hands trembled slightly as they curled around him once more, this time with more confidence, more purpose. Logan’s gaze stayed locked on yours, his chest rising and falling in steady breaths, though his voice dropped to a whisper when he spoke again.

“Good. Now, let me feel those soft lips of yours.” He guided you closer, the weight of his palm on the back of your neck a constant, steadying anchor as you leaned forward. Your lips brushed along the shaft first—tentative, testing—as though learning every inch of him. Logan’s breath hitched, and when you pressed a lingering kiss to the tip, his reaction shattered any lingering doubt.

A deep groan spilled from his chest, half a breathless chuckle, half a helpless sound that made your stomach twist in the best way. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, the sound shaky as his muscles tensed.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he muttered, his hand tightening at your nape. You swore you felt him tremble for just a moment before his voice turned low and rough again. “Sorry, baby. Can’t help myself.”

Before you could process what he meant, his fingers slid into your hair, fisting just tight enough to make your scalp tingle, and with a gentle but deliberate motion, he pushed the tip past your parted lips. The first inch of him filled your mouth, the taste of him flooding your senses, and it was enough to make your mind blank entirely. 

He stilled, his hands firm yet tentative as they guided your gaze up to meet his. The look in his eyes sent a wave of heat coursing through you, pooling low in your belly and making your thighs clench involuntarily. A faint whimper escaped your throat, and you squirmed, trying in vain to adjust the soaked fabric pressing against your folds.

“Oh, pretty girl,” Logan murmured, his chest rising and falling heavily, his voice low and rough with restraint. “You’re makin’ this real hard for me.” He paused, his thumb brushing along your jaw, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You trust me to take good care of you, right?”

You nodded without hesitation, a small, ragged sound catching in your throat as heat prickled across your cheeks. You felt obscene—completely undone under his gaze—but the way Logan looked at you chased away every last shred of doubt.

“Good girl,” he breathed, his hands sliding up to cradle the sides of your neck, a gentle yet possessive hold that left your pulse fluttering wildly. Slowly, he guided you closer, his touch steady as he coaxed your mouth open.

“Relax for me, sweetheart,” he whispered, his thumb sweeping over your jaw, encouraging it to drop further. A strained exhale left his lips as he eased in deeper, until the tip of his cock brushed the back of your throat. “Oh, yes—” Logan’s voice broke into a rough, shaky breath as he bottomed out, and your eyes fluttered shut as you adjusted to the weight of him.

“Come on, baby. I know you can take it,” he urged softly, his voice laced with both praise and challenge. Your hands rose instinctively to grip his thighs, your fingers twisting into the fabric of his pants as you let out a muffled moan around him.

The sound seemed to undo him further. Logan groaned low in his chest, his hand shifting to the back of your head to hold you there just a moment longer, as though savoring the feeling. You tried to quiet yourself, but the excitement coursing through you was impossible to contain—soft, needy noises escaped despite your efforts, vibrating against him as he held you still against his body.

Logan’s grip tightened at the nape of your neck, his restraint snapping like a taut wire. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he rasped, his voice rough and gravelly, “fuck, you’re takin’ me so good.” His hips began to move—slow at first, testing your limits—before he couldn’t hold back any longer.

He bucked into your mouth with a sharp, unrelenting rhythm, his breath coming harder and faster with every thrust. The sound of his low, guttural groans mixed with the wet noises of your mouth, the lewdness of it only spurring him on. “So perfect,” he praised, his voice cracking as he drove himself deeper. “You were made for this, weren’t you, baby? Look at you—”

The words tumbled out in a broken mix of curses and praise, his hold on you steady but possessive as he guided your head to meet each snap of his hips. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, your throat constricting around him as your nails dug into his thighs, but the way he sounded—so utterly wrecked—sent waves of pleasure through you, making you moan around him.

“Fuck,—oh, baby, just like that—” Logan’s voice was strained, raw, his head tilting back as he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. He was on the brink, his movements growing more erratic as he neared his edge, but before he could lose himself completely, his hand fisted in your hair, yanking you back with a sudden, desperate motion.

You gasped, panting heavily as your lips parted, your chest heaving as you blinked up at him. His eyes were blown wide, dark with hunger, his lips slightly parted as though trying to catch his breath. Without a word, Logan hauled you upward, crashing his mouth onto yours in a heated, sloppy kiss. His tongue pushed past your lips, claiming every inch of you as he groaned against your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue.

The kiss was frantic, all teeth and heat as he walked you backward, his hands gripping your waist before spinning you around and throwing you onto the bed. You barely had time to catch your breath before he was on you, his hands tugging at your clothes with a singular focus, stripping you bare with rough, hurried movements.

“Goddamn,” Logan muttered under his breath, his gaze sweeping over your exposed skin as he sat back just long enough to yank his own shirt over his head. The sight of him—bare-chested, muscles taut and flexing as he moved—sent a fresh rush of heat pooling between your thighs.

Logan’s hands were on you in an instant, his lips crashing down against your neck as he kissed, nipped, and licked his way down your body with a ravenous intensity. His fingers dug into your hips, pulling you closer, his grip firm and possessive as though he couldn’t get enough of you.

“You’re somethin’ else, sunshine,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and low, vibrating through you. His teeth scraped over your collarbone before his tongue soothed the mark, leaving you gasping beneath him.

His lips trailed lower, his hot breath teasing against your chest as his hands slid up, cupping your breasts with a firm, deliberate squeeze. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. Logan grinned against your skin when you arched into him, his lips wrapping around one taut peak as his fingers rolled the other, coaxing a breathless moan from your lips.

“Look at you,” he said, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze, his lips glistening. His eyes burned with unrestrained hunger as his hands roamed your body, exploring every inch with rough, greedy caresses. “Already fallin’ apart for me, huh?”

You barely managed a nod, your head spinning as his mouth moved lower, his lips pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your stomach. His hands gripped your thighs, prying them apart as he settled between them, his gaze locked onto yours. The sight alone—Logan on his knees, his broad shoulders pinning your legs open, his lips glistening as he licked them—made your breath hitch.

“Goddamn, you’re a dream,” he rasped, his voice thick with reverence and desire. He dipped his head, his stubble brushing against your inner thighs as his tongue flicked out, teasing along your folds. The first swipe of his tongue sent a shudder through you, and Logan groaned deeply, the sound reverberating against you.

“You taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he murmured, his lips wrapping around your swollen clit and sucking lightly, drawing a sharp cry from you. Your hands flew to his hair, fingers tangling in the thick strands as he worked you over with unrelenting precision.

Logan alternated between long, slow strokes of his tongue and quick, teasing flicks, relishing every sound you made, every twitch of your body beneath him. His hands gripped your thighs tighter, holding you in place as he buried his face deeper, his nose brushing against your sensitive nub as his tongue dove inside you.

“God,” he growled against you, his voice rough and dripping with approval. “You’re so fuckin’ sweet, sunshine. Can’t get enough of you.” He pulled back slightly, his lips and chin slick with your arousal as he grinned up at you. “Look at you, practically undone for me already.”

You writhed beneath him, your body trembling as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, his fingers replacing his mouth to keep the steady rhythm against your clit. “Logan,” you whimpered, your voice high and desperate, your thighs trembling as heat coiled low in your belly.

“That’s it,” he coaxed, his voice like velvet, his eyes dark and intense as he watched you. “Let go for me, baby. I wanna feel you fall apart.”

You were barely holding onto a thread of sanity, your head spinning, your breath hitching as Logan’s relentless tongue and fingers pushed you higher and higher. Your nails scraped against his scalp, and Logan groaned in response, the vibration sending you tumbling over the edge.

Your body arched off the bed as the pressure inside you built to an unbearable peak, every nerve ending ignited under Logan's expert tongue and fingers. The pleasure crashed through you like a tidal wave, your thighs trembling violently as you cried out his name, your hands fisting in his hair.

"That's it," Logan growled against you, his voice dark and dripping with satisfaction as he continued to devour you. "Let it all out for me, sweetheart."

Your orgasm tore through you, so intense that your vision blurred, your entire body trembling as if it couldn’t contain the raw ecstasy coursing through you. Logan didn’t let up for a second, his tongue working you through the aftershocks, prolonging every wave until you were left gasping and shuddering beneath him.

Before you could catch your breath, Logan was on you, his body a solid weight over yours. His hands gripped your hips, and in one swift motion, he buried himself inside you, stealing the remnants of your orgasm and turning them into something even more feral.

“Fuck,” Logan rasped, his voice rough as his hips snapped forward with an unforgiving pace. “Still so tight, baby. I’ve gotcha—just let me take care of you.”

The sensation was overwhelming—his thick cock filling you completely, his relentless rhythm pushing you further into the mattress with every thrust. Your cries mingled with the sound of skin meeting skin, your nails clawing at his back as he moved with a desperate hunger, biting and sucking at your neck, leaving marks that burned and thrilled in equal measure.

“You feel that?” he murmured darkly against your ear, his teeth grazing your earlobe before his lips trailed down to your jaw. “This is what you were made for—bein’ mine. My perfect little thing, takin’ me so damn well.”

His hand slid up to your throat, his fingers wrapping around it with a possessive grip that sent a shiver through you. He applied just enough pressure to make your head spin, his eyes locked onto yours, burning with raw intensity. “Look at you, sunshine,” he praised, his voice low and gravelly. “So fuckin’ beautiful when you let go—when you give yourself to me.”

Your moans turned into gasps as he choked you lightly, his thumb brushing along the side of your neck, coaxing you to surrender completely. Logan’s lips found yours again, devouring your cries as his hips slammed into you, his movements erratic and desperate as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

His teeth sank into your shoulder, a primal growl rumbling through his chest as his hand slid down to your thigh, gripping it tightly to spread you wider for him. His thrusts grew harder, deeper, and the sheer force of him sent you spiraling again, your body clenching tightly around him.

“Fuck, baby, that’s it,” Logan groaned, his voice breaking as he felt your walls flutter around him. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, so good for me. Gonna make you mine all over again.”

You cried out as another orgasm overtook you, this one more intense than the first, leaving you trembling and incoherent beneath him. Logan’s movements didn’t falter; if anything, they grew rougher, more possessive, his thumb pressing into the base of your throat as his teeth found the tender skin of your collarbone again.

"That's my girl," he growled, his voice sharp with pride and need as your body writhed beneath his. "Look at you, squirtin’ all over me—so fuckin’ perfect.”

Your body gave out beneath him, your vision blurring as the pleasure consumed you entirely. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, your cries filling the room as Logan’s relentless pace pushed you to your limits.

Logan’s hand fisted in your hair, tugging your head back as he kissed you deeply, his tongue dominating yours as his hips drove forward with punishing intensity. His free hand roamed your body, squeezing, groping, claiming every inch of you as he chased his own release.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough and possessive, his breath hot against your ear as he gave a final, brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt. His body tensed, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as he came, his hips rolling through his climax as if he couldn’t bear to leave your warmth.

Logan collapsed over you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his lips brushing against your temple as he murmured softly, his voice still tinged with raw need. “So fuckin’ good, sunshine. My perfect girl.”

Logan’s grip tightened around your waist, his breath ragged as he held you in place, your body still trembling beneath him. His chest heaved, his lips brushing against your ear as he pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, savoring the feel of you around him. His voice was low, a dark satisfaction lacing every word.

“See how good it feels to let go, sweetheart?” he murmured, his lips curling into a smirk as his eyes bored into yours. "I told you, just had to trust me."

You didn’t respond with words, your gaze locking onto his as you fought for breath, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. The only sound in the room was your uneven breaths and the faint, rhythmic pulse of his dick still buried deep inside you.

His hand found the back of your neck, pulling you forward with unrelenting force. The kiss he claimed you with was messy and possessive, his tongue dominating yours, tasting, owning you in every way. His grip on your neck tightened slightly, making it harder to breathe, but you didn’t care. You were lost in him, completely, mindlessly, heart in your throat as he claimed you like this.

You were on top of him now, your body straddling him, both of you entwined in a messy, raw dance that didn’t need words—just the wet slide of your lips, the heat of his skin, the desperate shallow thrusts that made everything blur. His kiss was greedy, ferocious, as though he needed you to know that you were his—his plaything, his perfect girl.

You moaned into the kiss, the sensation of him still deep inside you enough to keep your thoughts scattered and incoherent. Logan didn’t pull away. He kept you close, his tongue in your mouth, tasting, owning, until you could barely keep your eyes open, your body consumed by him —sloppy, messy, and completely possessive, as if the world could end and all that mattered was this. All that mattered was you, beneath him, in his arms, on top of him, held and claimed by his every touch.

And as you melted into the kiss, body trembling and mind slipping into a daze of pleasure, everything else faded. All that remained was the feel of him, the sound of his breath, and the heat that still burned between you.

---

a/n: smooches! (reblog pls)

[ghastlyfilters]

random lost boys headcanons that i constantly think about!!

pairing(s): none!

warning(s): mentions of weed, religion, paul being a dirty little shit when it comes down to magazines

(here’s some random headcanons no one asked for but i literally think about these all the time and can’t get them out of my head. and yes, i know some bands and music artists mentioned in this were in their prime after the lost boys was set. but fuck it there’s no need to put dates on things when it’s all just for the sake of fictional writing. ALSO BONUS POINTS TO ANYONE WHO GETS THE OG BRANDON ROGERS REFERENCE IN THIS)

gifs not mine!! (if you know the original owner please tag them!!)

DAVID

• This man smokes like ten packs of cigarettes per day.

Think of a mukbang video but instead it’s just David smoking a shit ton of cigarettes packs.

Max has came to the conclusion that if David were not a vampire, he would in fact be a cancer patient.

• Him bullying someone is just his poor attempts at flirting.

• Makes multiple attempts at destroying Christmas decorations in every store he goes to during winter. When an employee looks in his direction upon hearing the crashing sound of tree baubles, he stares at them with that icy glare, looking personally offended that the employee is giving him the “Did you just do that..” look.

He’s a dumb shit that couldn’t care less what anyone else sees him doing. The employee could literally catch him smacking a glittery bauble off their mini Christmas tree with the back of his hand and he’ll glance over at them, blinking repeatedly.

“It was an accident.”

He’ll even turn to his mind control, allowing the employee to believe it was either Paul or Marko. It usually ends up being Marko, and he’s standing there biting the cuff of his jacket whilst getting the shittiest lecture from the store manager. Turns out poor Marko actually loves the place’s Christmas decorations.. despite being a bloodsucker that should resent anything to do with Christ. He just likes sparkly things.. ☹️

• David is so blunt to anyone who calls him self centred. He ain’t phased in the slightest bit by it. Marko’s said it on multiple occasions after an argument broke out between them all in the cave, and everyone was throwing digs. But the boys know David’s the most brutally honest being they’ve ever encountered.

“Who else am I supposed to be centred on?”

• He’s always dreamed of owning a black cat named Salem, but he knows the cat either won’t take to him being a vampire or the boys might accidentally forget it’s around and do something stupid.

(He really just wants one to sit on his lap whilst he’s in his wheelchair acting like Don fucking Corleone)

• Went through an identity crisis and forced himself to try and look like Billy Idol for a week. (That week turned into years)

• Dwayne’s still trying to convince him that bleaching his hair was a bad decision after a clump of it FELL OUT.

• If there’s ever a child crying on the boardwalk, David’s usually the reason they’re crying.

PAUL

• Is always the “C’mon everybody!!” person at the function. Yet when he runs off excitedly, no one follows.

• Never knows what to do in a chaotic situation because he’s that used to BEING the chaos.

• Cannot sit still for shit. He has to be fiddling with something or bouncing around the place like the madman he is.

• Paul’s a ride or die Mötley Crüe fan. He’s even lured some chicks on the boardwalk by playing Mötley on his boombox for them, feeding afterwards of course. (He’s the sneakiest little shit you’ll ever meet)

If he ever met a girl whom he fell for and eventually turned, his ideal date idea would be going on his motorcycle in the moonlit night and blasting “Kickstart My Heart” with his new partner riding along with him. He’s dreamt of it for years.

(Marko’s bound to third wheel though duh)

• He’s also got a thing for Alice In Chains, and he’s spent many drunk nights screaming the lyrics to “Bleed The Freak” outside the cave whilst meanwhile inside the boys sit in silence and are forced to listen to him.

• Paul barely sees girls with lip piercings but when he does holy fuck.

Just any kind of person who can pull off facial piercings is magical to him. Whether it be a few or a lot, he’s mesmerised by whatever kind of metal is in your face.

• Says “Pspsps..” to every kitty he sees on the boardwalk then screams the biggest “FUCK YOU!” if he witnesses the cat either pad over to someone else or look at him and run away.

• He’s always got a fucking rootbeer in his hand when he’s in the cave with the boys. Aside from blood, him and Marko live off of rootbeer. Ice. Cold. Rootbeer.

• Cherry Pie by Warrant is this man’s national anthem.

• Continuously has to find new weed dealers because if he has a bad argument with one of the boys, they’ll purposely hunt down his current dealer and drain every drop of blood from their body. This causes Paul to go apeshit because when he’s not out looking for prey or pissing people off on the boardwalk, you can bet his ass is in the cave stoned.

• On the topic of his severe weed habit, he’s not much of an edibles guy. He’d rather be sat on his ass smoking the fattest joint of his immortal existence and enjoying every minute of it. He’s occasionally gotten edibles for Marko, but Marko and gummies do not mix after the Frog Brothers started creeping around again.

• Has the biggest Playboy magazine stash that he hides underneath a pile of old denim and leather jackets in the cave. No one apart from Marko knows about them. Plus they’ve always been for.. special.. occasions..

Marko can’t help himself though and starts singing “In The Heat Of The Night” by Sandra when anyone innocently mentions magazines around Paul. This causes Paul to send his boot into Marko’s stomach whenever the boys are all assing around on the bridge, and he’s the first to fall.

“….. I’m telling David about your WET DREAMSSSSS.” Marko usually screams before disappearing into the fog below.

• Him and Marko don’t celebrate holidays unless it’s Halloween or Easter. They don’t give a fuck about the religious part when it comes down to Easter though. And if they wanted to, they couldn’t. They’re just there for the chocolate. They miss the taste of it. Paul will literally start fighting children during an Easter egg hunt on the boardwalk so he can get more for himself and Laddie.

(God help the children who push Laddie out of the way)

MARKO

• Goes into Claire’s Accessories and proceeds to tell the child who’s about to get their ears pierced how bad it should hurt.

(Also steals drip for himself because hello yes he does indeed fw a Sanrio earring set)

• He’s always the one who’ll make the most guttural moaning sounds if you’re on the phone to someone.

• Him and Paul are always found in the naughty section of Max’s video store.

• Whenever a fight breaks out on the boardwalk (that isn’t started by David or Paul for once) he doesn’t know what the fuck to do so he just starts screaming.

• Whenever one of the boys is hurt or sick (yes vampires get sick), Marko’s always the one who tends to them. He’s a massive over-thinker. David came down with something one time, and it was bad. Real bad. It was extremely rare, but it hit David like a freight train. Marko thought he walked in and found him in a state where he’d never wake up, so Max and the boys were left to deal with him bawling for the rest of the evening. Even David was confused when he awoke from his slumber.

• He has a bat plushie named Boris that Paul stole for him years ago. He gets caught chewing on the wings a lot but all in all he loves his Boris.

• Paul once traveled to LA and took him to one of those haunted house events for Halloween. They got kicked out and almost left their motorcycles because Marko starting punching multiple actors. It ended up in this big ass arguement because Paul swore for a moment he saw a glimpse of Marko’s fangs in the light and his eyes momentarily changed.

• The pigeons that flap around in the cave are like his pets. He’s down for just chilling with them and petting them if they let him.

Marko lowkey loves animals.

• He likes embracing his golden, curly locks. Aside from his fashion sense, he thinks his curls are really what gives him his image. He isn’t vain, but he does truly adore his little curls.

• Marko has such a soft spot for trad goths and their way of dressing. Whenever he sees one on the boardwalk, (which he hopes he will), he’s always fascinated by whatever outfit they have on. If they walk past him and the boys, he offers a shy smile. He wishes he could go start a conversation with them, but he thinks it’d be pretty dumb considering what his.. needs are. He doesn’t wanna kill people he thinks are cool.

DWAYNE

• Has the og resting bitch face.

• He wishes he could just stay silent and wonders why it’s not enough to just show up somewhere and have giant eyes.

• Dwayne used to get so many random people come up to him on the boardwalk and tell him how good he’d suit a black or brown eyeliner.

Since that day Dwayne has never forgotten those people and he always wears eyeliner inside and outside the cave.

• Major black coffee addict despite not even needing it.

• Whenever the likes of Paul and Marko actually try to engage in activities whilst on the boardwalk, some female will waltz up to Dwayne. Their approach and characteristics through their energy will allow him to of course decide what his next move is, but if it’s some yappy person who clearly has a horrible energy, Dwayne can be just as blunt as David is.

“How can I get to know you?”

…

“I don’t want to be known.”

And then he’ll walk away.

• This man is dedicated to leopard print. DEDICATED. In his mind him and the boys are living in some lavish mansion in 70s LA with leopard print plush sofas, leopard print pillows, leopard print bed sheets, literally everything leopard print.

If he had free rein to design the places he wanted to, he’d be ecstatic. (Literally all he wants is to turn Max’s house into a leopard print and cherry red museum.)

• When Dwayne actually smiles around people, it’s the sort of smile that can heal a thousand wounds. Like him coming out of his shell is the sweetest thing to witness.

• If the boys are off irritating the fuck out of people on the boardwalk instead of trying to find a good feed, Dwayne will occasionally sneak away and visit any sort of music store he can find. He could sit and yap to the people in there for days, and that’s really where he feels the most comfy around strangers. He loves talking to others about bands and artists like Judas Priest, Type O Negative, Rob Zombie, Pantera, Sisters of Mercy, Monster Magnet and Rammstein.

• The film The Crow ended up having a really special place in Dwayne’s heart. He loves playing little bits and pieces on his guitar for Laddie from Graeme Revell’s music from the soundtrack.

HII! if you have any lost boys requests send them in!! as you can tell, i really enjoy writing for all of them!! (i’ll write for honestly any lost boys character atp) <33

[merakiui]

ahhhhh thank you for answering my ask!!!! i have even more!!!! (this is both the anon from contractual fwb and the milking anon TT i was super tired when i sent that in lol. if you don’t have an eepy or sleepy anon feel free to dub me. also ignore the spelling mistakes my fingers are moving slower than my brain) btw this brainrot is not based on my last asks, but more on the canon of what you wrote. it’s been bouncing in my mind all day.

you thought that since azul didn’t want your relationship to be known when it was first starting that he’d not want it to be shown off either when it’s official. but you’re dead wrong! (500 mora on the fact that he just wanted to keep it on the dl so that way no one could try and break y’all’s contract up.) but no, bitch you work in the monstro lounge and you best believe that every single person who walks through those doors knows you ride his dick with how much he lets you get away with. you mess up an order? it’s met with a sigh instead of a lecture. a tables being rude to you? doenst matter how busy yall are, they’re going to someone else. you’d like to order food after last call for workers? he’ll make it himself.

ruggie’s poor ass even commented one time on how yall act like you’re married. he called you azuls work wife and all azul heard was “wife” (listen people, i don’t care what gender you are because work couple names are gender neutral. only reason you’re the so called wife in this scenario is purely because id love to call azul my husband. got it? good.) and so now azuls on this whole thing about how you’re his wife and you’re married and he refuses to respond to anything other than “my husband.” it’s a bit tiring to explain to random strangers that yes, you are too young to be married, and no, you’re not actually married to this crazy tako. but don’t worry, his silly little nicknames are still used.

you’ve practically moved into octavinel’s dormitory at this point. you sleep there nearly every night. of course you occasionally go back to ramshackle because of any slight disagreement you get into (and also ace and deuce are tired of having to babysit grim every night and that cat ain’t going near the fish dorm with a ten foot pole) which means you get woken up to a flushed azul with flowers and a roundabout half apology. you forgive him every time.

back to the marriage thing. yall really do act like you’re already married. you’ve even started helping him sort out his papers in his office instead of being in the floor. (this definitely started because you wanted more of him and he was busy so you were like fuck it i guess im in) you’re his proof reader for his contracts. he has yet to make a mistake. and if he’s in back of house you run the front, even if jade and floyd are there! he’ll never tell you this but it’s somehow a super long winded plan he created through a careful game of 5d chess to get you to own a business together that’s completely unnecessary because you would’ve said yes to co-owning a restaurant.

he’s so happy his pretty work wife wants to run the lounge with him. and it’s definitely not so he can tie you down more to him because we know he’d love you to live the sugar baby lifestyle—oh no not at all. his tells his mommy about it and she ends up requesting to meet you. he wouldn’t sent her a quick no if you didn’t put your hand on your hip and raise your eyebrow. he finds it just as sexy as you batting your pretty lashes up at him but he’ll never tell you. he has a thing for boss lady’s.

(bbg if you want more i’ll deadass ramble to you about how i think meeting his mom would go. i have sooooo many thoughts on this au it’s genuinely concerning)

AAAAA EEPY ANON!!!! You have blessed me with your brilliant thoughts once more (that milking ask was so delicious btw.... I need him clinging to me!!!!!).

Handing over that 500 mora to you because you're right LOL. Stingy tako did not want to share or publicize your relationship because he just knew in his soul that someone would try to get in the way of your contract...... he covers all of his bases in the most meticulous ways. >_< so silly...

AAAAAA THE WORK WIFE/WORK HUSBAND DYNAMIC WITH HIM!!!!! This is so true!!!!! He spoils you so much. Ruggie is very right to make that observation. <3 Azul is so lenient with you and it's so obvious he's down bad for you. Insisting on making food for you even though you were just planning to take leftovers. So quick to forgive you if you make a mistake, and Floyd whines about how Azul's not like that whenever he messes up. >:( you really are his work wife and one day hopefully his real wife and it will say so on the legal documents and you'll get his surname and and and !!!!!!

Omg Azul and his 5D chess plans........ oh, he is so over the moon when you show interest in the lounge and wanting to help out... he melts if you give him a shoulder massage while he writes up contracts. >:D can he just marry you right now already!!! OTL I love the idea of him folding whenever you do something he finds attractive. Batting your lashes, hands on your hips, every playful glance, etc etc....... somehow he ends up folding so hard for you that it gets you a trip to the Coral Sea to meet his parents, and his mother and the restaurant staff fawn over you and Azul's partnership. Such a cute couple. They adore you. Azul thinks this is the most blue he's ever looked because he's so embarrassed, yet you soak in their attention like a thirsty flower. Even more embarrassing when you're sleeping in his childhood room and you tease him for it. He is definitely fucking you in that cramped sleeping nook and you're going to fall asleep wrapped up in his tentacles, the both of you clinging to each other.

(please ramble as much as you want!!!! I love these thoughts so much,,, contractual fwb with Azul will always be one of my favorites hehe. I need to know how the meeting with his mother goes...... AAAAAAA)

[wintfleur]

UNDERNEATH THE TREE

⊹ don’t mean a thing if you ain’t holdin’ me tight ⊹

🧦 ━━━ 𝓇osa 𝒽ughes is surprised when she sees her boyfriend 𝒸ole 𝒸aufield underneath the tree

lhughes_06 added to his close friends !

[caption: christmas shopping, rosa complaining about missing her boyfriend every minute, edition 🙄]

rosaliehughes replied to your story ‘at least I have a significant other I can complain about missing 🫵’

lhughes_06 🙁

rosaliehughes yeah I’m sorry that was too far :[

dylanduke25 reacted with 😭

markestapa replied to your story ‘see this is why i belong with her, I’d never leave her alone on Christmas 😤’

lhughes_06 mark ohmygod stand up???

jackhughes replied to your story ‘hehehe 😈’

lhughes_06 🤨

_quinnhughes replied to your story ‘she’s having withdrawals 😭’

lhughes_06 it’s killing my christmas spirit 😾

trevorzegras replied to your story ‘REAL. I miss cole too 🙁’

finnwolfhardofficial reacted with 🤣

colecaufield replied to your story ‘when she misses you 🥹’

colecaufield replied to your story ‘I MISS HER SO MUCH’

lhughes_06 then come get her, she’s in her grinch era rn 😒

jackhughes added to their story !

[caption: I think the surprise went well 😌 @/rosaliehughes @/colecaufield]

trevorzegras replied to your story ‘okay but why didn’t she cry when she saw me too??’

jackhughes it’s okay bud my love is enough ☝️

_alexturcotte replied to your story ‘omg Jack actually doing somthing nice for Rosa 😱’

jackhughes GET OUTTA HERE???

lhughes_06 replied to your story ‘thank you for your service’

elblue6 reacted with 🤍

colecaufield replied to your story ‘thank you for helping me plan this jack!’

jackhughes no problem bro! Glad it worked out

rosaliehughes replied to your story ‘I love you so much jack, thank you 🥹🩷’

jackhughes always sis! 🫶🏻

rosaliehughes just posted !

liked by matthewknies, calebmclaughlin, jennaortega and more

🏷️ colecaufield

🎵: underneath the tree - kelly clarkson

rosaliehughes my forever love, Merry Christmas everyone ❤️

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madelyncline my happy girl, merry christmas bby! ❤️

rosaliehughes mads 🥹 merry christmas pretty 🎁

finnwolfhardofficial cookies look bomb dafuq

rosaliehughes finn the trend has BEEN done 🥱

ella_purnell prettiest gal ever!! wishing you the best Christmas ❤️

rosaliehughes ELLA ML MERRY CHRISTMAS 🫶🏻🫶🏻

elblue6 One of the best Christmas’s yet! ❤️

rosaliehughes love you mom ❤️

sadiesink_ MERRY CHRISTMAS SEXY 😻

rosaliehughes oh I want you sooo bad 😵‍💫

canadiensmtl Merry Christmas to THE BEST couple ❤️

jackhughes I know I know, I’m the best brother ever 😼

lhughes_06 strong words from the guy who locked her in the closet at grandmas 🤨

lhughes_06 and just like that, Christmas was saved 🙏

rosaliehughes ur being dramatic 😾

lhughes_06 you were the grinch reincarnated 🫵

trevorzegras COLE COLE COLE COLE 🗣️ what a man 😍

rosaliehughes 🧍🏻‍♀️

_quinnhughes merry christmas sis ❤️

rosaliehughes merry christmas quinny 🫶🏻

soapy.t  you weren’t under my tree dafuq??

rosaliehughes you weren’t under mine either dafuq

finnwolfhardofficial this is reeking of favoritism 😪

brockcaufield19 merry christmas guys ❤️

rosaliehughes merry christmas Brock!!! ❤️

kdach77 sleepy cole

rosaliehughes I tired him out 🍪

kdach77 ROSA TMI???

rosaliehughes BY MAKING COOKIES!! DID YOU NOT SEE THE COOKIE EMOJI???

kdach77 I THOUGHT THAT WAS AN INNUENDO???

rosaliehughes omggg 😭

_slafkovsky_ did you like the bear?

rosaliehughes it’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever received!! ty juraj 🫶🏻

markestapa id never sleep in your presence 😵‍💫

lhughes_06 what is that even supposed to mean??

matthewknies merry Christmas ro!

rosaliehughes HAPPY CHRISTMAS ‼️

colecaufield you really thought I’d not spend Christmas with you baby? never!

colecaufield Merry Christmas rosey posey 🩷

rosaliehughes I’m in love with you so bad, thank you for everything, best Christmas ever 😽 🩷

colecaufield I love you always 🩷

rosaliehughes just posted !

liked by patriklaine, rutgermcgroarty, maya_hawke and more

🏷️ jackhughes, trevorzegras, _alexturcotte, _quinnhughes, lhughes_06, colecaufield

🎵: under your spell - snow strippers

rosaliehughes christmas vlog will be up tomorrow 💋

view all comments

jackhughes hmm strange, where is my picture 🧐

rosaliehughes hmm strange indeed 🧐

trevorzegras will forever remember how Quinn totally wiped out on the slopes 🤣

rosaliehughes I think he’s concussed 🧍🏻‍♀️

mattboldy major fomo rn

rosaliehughes I can’t believe you left me alone with them 🙁

_alexturcotte okay but why did cole wear that sweater??

rosaliehughes emotional attachment?? bad sense of style??

_quinnhughes never skiing again 👍🏻

rosaliehughes LOL QUINNY 😭

markestapa AWOOGA 🤩😍

daisyedgarjones the outfit??? the dogs??? stunning 😻

rosaliehughes daisy I’m gonna kiss you

lhughes_06 why do the snowman look so wonky

rosaliehughes trev made them :[

lhughes_06 ohh makes sense

trevorzegras what is that supposed to mean ☝️

lhughes_06 ur just a wonky guy 🤷‍♂️

arberxhekaj_ cole is so awkward I can’t, why is he just standing like that 🤣

rosaliehughes STOPPP HES CUTE :[

drewstarkey okay but how many times did you fall…

rosaliehughes next question 😾

nsuzuki_37 please come back safely 😭

edwards.73 PLSS LUKE IS JUST 😼🧍‍♂️

caroliine_brown the cutest 🩷

colecaufield fuck your so beautiful

rosaliehughes ur actually perfect

colecaufield no that’s you …. was that smooth?

rosaliehughes So smooth 🤣

𝓻oro’s note. rosa and cole own my heart, I need to write more for them NEOW ☝️ please send in some thoughts for them 🙏 sorry this is so short :(

𝓬heck it, 𝔀ishlist! m.list au m.list main m.list

˖ ་ taglist : @winterbarnesblog @toasttt11 @lesrflms @iceflwers @cixrosie @bunbunbl0gs

©️WINTFLEUR ; you can't copy, translate, reproduce, repost my fic, use my plot or layout.

[luvely-stories]

Mistletoe

Nanamis missing something very important this holiday season so Gojo and Geto work together to bring it back

Nanami frowned as he looked up at the door to his office, mistletoe hung there, taunting him with its bright red berries. The scowl on his face deepened as he sat down at his desk and his office was now surrounded with holiday cheer. Whatever, not like he had to participate. As soon as he clocked out he wouldn’t have to think about this holiday

Within an instant Nanami went to work, checking over spreadsheets and making sure they matched with his presentation due just before Christmas break. His break came and went, though you really couldn’t consider it a break. He worked on the graphics of his presentation before realizing the time and haphazardly shoved his sandwich in his mouth before going back to working.

Things were going well, his colleagues only giving him a quick “Happy Holidays” as they walked past him which he replied to kindly. Just because he was feeling like a grinch didn’t mean that everyone else had to deal with it. As he sipped his stale coffee, finishing up his presentation and getting ready to leave, two thorns in his side made themselves noticeable.

“Oh Nanami! Happy Holidays!”

Gojo exclaimed with Geto following behind him. They quickly placed themselves on both sides of the working man. Nanami let out a deep groan, still not looking up from his computer.

“Happy holidays you two, now if you’ll excuse me I have work to do.”

“Ouch, what a grouch.”

Geto giggled, adjusting himself so he had the space to spread his legs.

“Who pissed in your stocking?”

Nanami rolled his eyes at the statement but couldn’t act like it came from nowhere. He wasn’t usually this much of a Scrooge during the holiday season, quite the opposite actually. He loved decorating his house, making treats and giving applause to the carolers as they came. There was only one thing different about this year.

You, his lovely wife.

You had to go on a work trip and probably wouldn’t be back till a week after Christmas and that was more then enough to sour his mood. Here he was, stuck seeing couples love each other tenderly as he went back to an empty bed.

“If anyone pissed in my stalking it was gonna be one of you.”

“Nanami! I would never do such a thing!”

Gojo gasped, feigning offense with a hand on his chest. Getos smirk deepened as he shrugged.

“I might.”

That was enough for Nanami to going back to ignoring the but the pair of troublemakers weren’t done. Moving his chair closer to Nanami, Gojo puts a hand over Nanamis shoulder.

“Cmon Nanami! Tell us what’s up. You ain’t usually this grouchy.”

Geto asked, genuine concern veiled with a teasing tone. Glancing around Gojos eyes land on a photo of you and Nanami on his desk, smiling happily with a beautiful snow covered forest behind you two.

“Aaaah I get it now, Nanamis missing the Mrs.”

Gojo explained, holding up the photo. Nanami tried to reach out and snatch it but Gojo was faster, quickly standing up and just holding it out of Nanamis reach.

“Satoru! Be nicer to him, it’s no wonder Nanami never opens up to us.”

Geto called out, rolling his eyes at the whole ordeal. With an annoyed huff, Gojo gave the picture back to Nanami. Ever since high school these two have ganged up on him. Looking down at the photo, the anger he felt from the two melted away. God he missed you. You’ve only been gone for a week at this point but he couldn’t bear having you gone any longer.

His longing gaze didn’t slip past Gojo or Geto who looked at each other with knowing smirks. Standing up with a slight groan, Geto walks over to Gojo.

“Well, we’ll be off now. Have a nice break Nanami!”

Geto waved before the two walked off. Once they were out of earshot from the blonde man, Gojo looked over his glasses and smiled.

“So we’re bringing her back right?”

“Oh absolutely.”

Your heart hurts a little as you looked out of your window, a beautiful view of the city of Nagoya covered in snow. Happy couples walked down the side walls holding each other close, giggling and laughing as they looked around the streets. Their cheer hurt even more as you look down at your ring.

Working on the holidays never felt so horrible. Though you picked up your phone and took a photo of your view, it really was gorgeous. How you wished you could share it with him, though now all you can do is send a photo to your dear husband with a text about how much you missed him. You sighed before going back to work.

Though you couldn’t work for long as you were interrupted by a loud knock. Odd, you weren’t expecting visitors. Looking through the peephole you’re surprised to see Geto and Gojo standing outside your door.

“Hey you! Why aren’t you at home for Christmas?”

Gojo asked, beaming as he handed you a small box wrapped nicely with a bow.

“Because my boss told me work during the holidays which is atrocious. But what brings you two here?”

You ask smiling, hugging the two men before inviting them into the hotel room. It was fairly nice but it could never beat your home.

“We’re here to save you!”

Gojo exclaimed as his back hits your bed. You frowned, looking at the two confused before Gojo continues.

“Me and Suguru are gonna take your job here so you can go home!”

Your eyes widened as you looked at Geto who nods, bringing in two suitcases and taking off his coat.

“I mean we’ve been wanting to spend Christmas is Nagoya for a while, haven’t we Satoru?”

Gojo nods, motioning his head towards the gift he gave you. Gently opening it, you realized it’s a train ticket to Tokyo. Your eyes widened as you pulled it out of the box and held it gently.

“Wait, I- How’d you do that?!”

“Power of nepotism baby! Pulled a few strings and now you can be home free!”

A smile creeped onto your face as Geto nodded and confirmed everything you’ve just heard. Going up to Gojo you squeeze him tightly and he does the same with a small giggle.

“Thank you, so much, both of you.”

You said before running to hug Geto. He was shocked for a moment before quickly returning the hug.

“Not a problem, we just have one favor to ask,”

Looking up you stare at both of them before nodding. They had already done so much, one favor wasn’t anything.

“Yes of course!”

Gojo got up from the bed, swinging his arm over your shoulder and smirking at you.

“Help out Nanami, he is such a grouch without you!”

It was two days before Christmas and Nanamis mood hadn’t lighten up, if anything it’s gotten worse. Venom would slip through when he talked before he caught it and his scowl deepened whenever he saw a happy couple. This was terrible. He couldn’t stay bitter because that wouldn’t do anyone good.

He sighed as he slumped into his chair, looking over at the side and seeing boxes filled with Christmas decorations. He always did love making his house festive, maybe this’ll help.

Standing up with a groan, Nanami stretches before walking up to the boxes. Slowly but surely the house started to feel a bit more festive and Nanami felt a bit better. There was just one more thing he needed to add, mistletoe.

It was your favorite tradition. Always carrying one and putting it above you two just to get some kisses. Not like you needed an excuse though, all you had to do was ask.

You always hung them under every doorway so that whenever you two passed one you could smother him in kisses.

Putting up the last mistletoe at the front door Nanami sighed, the house now looking more alive. He felt a bit less bitter, till his phone rang and he realized who was calling.

“Oh Nanami!”

Gojos annoying voice rang through the phone, a frown coming right back onto Nanamis face.

“Gojo is there a reason why you’re calling me?”

“I always have a reason!”

“Do you have a good reason this time?”

“Nanami you are so mean you know that?”

Gojo pouts but Nanami just rolls his eyes. He apparently wasn’t mean enough for Gojo to leave him alone. Immediately going back to his original happy voice.

“Anyways! Me and Suguru sent you a gift! I’m sure you’re gonna love it.”

As Gojo hung up the phone, Nanami let out an annoyed groan. Whenever he had the pleasure of getting a gift from either of them it’d be the dumbest thing possible. From joke underwear to a gun safety book for cats, those two always found the dumbest things and immediately sent it his way.

There was a knock at the door and all Nanami could do was groan as he walked over to the door. There went his good mood. Who knows? Maybe Nanami could find a use for the gift.

Nanami opened the door, bored expression on his face till it clicked what or better yet, who, was at the door.

“Kento!”

You exclaim, launching yourself onto him with a flurry of giggles. Nanamis arms wrap around you as he steadied himself, looking down at you in shock.

“Love you’re here! I thought you were off working!”

Nanami exclaims with a smile on his face before nuzzling his head into your hair. You giggle at the contact, holding your husband close.

“I was! But Gojo pulled a few strings and now I’m here!”

Nanami blinks, eyes widening as he realizes you were the gift. He’d have to thank Gojo, something he’d never done before and then he was gonna hold it over his head and-

Nanami sighs as he recollects his thoughts, that was for him to worry about later. Right now all his thoughts should be on the beautiful woman in his arms.

Looking up at the mistletoe you giggle and look at him.

“You decorated the house while I was gone?”

“It felt so dull without you.”

Nanami confesses as you two started to kiss, lips pressing tenderly over every place he could reach. Heat started to bloom in his chest as looked down at your giggling face.

“Who knew you were such a sweet talker?”

Nobody would ever call him that, but for you? He’d be whatever as long as it made you smile.

[hearts4werka]

SECRETS OF THE UNDEAD SHADOWS

“Get fucked, you bitch! I ain’t gonna do shit!“

A new series in which... you and your mother move to an apartment complex for a new beginning after a traumatic event happened in your home town and as soon as you arrive, you have a strange feeling about the place right away, you meet interesting friends and gather a ghost hunting friend group along the way and investigate the origins of all the infamous murders and crimes of ‘Veronica’s Strange Apartments’ in the town of Boston, Massachusetts. Year 1998

This series will contain… a lot of sensitive & dark topics, including paranormal activity and sexual content, mentions of a traumatic past & uncovering a truly fucked up murder investigation, please be aware of what you’re consuming on the internet!

- - > click here to find the rest of the chapters!

! English is not my first language !

- CHAPTER TWO - Strangers Next Door…

The Past - year 1998

A sudden loud thud could be heard coming from the other side of the wall and next door which immediately shocks me awake, rising from my bed into a sitting position and looking around the room cautiously as there is a possible possibility that someone could have broke into my apartment, my breath quickens intensely as my eyes scan the room before they land down on Chris who seemed to slowly be waking himself from the loud noise. “Chris, are you awake?” I call out quietly as I hear him as well sit up and his eyes find mine, the same amount of horror hiding behind them as mine. “Well, am now. And what the actual fuck was that?” “I’m trying to figure out the same thing!” I whisper-shout, feeling a cold shiver run down my spine at the horrible scenarios creating in my mind like pop-rock candy pop in your mouth whenever you place them on your tongue, being all so sudden and hard to comprehend all at the same time. “Wanna go check it out?” He asks and I glance at him as if he just cussed out my whole bloodline, “Fuck no! That’s literally the main reason why people in horror movies die first, they go towards the shit when they should be running away!” I once again whisper-shout but now at him, he rolls his eyes and get out from under his covers, not paying any mind to his messy sleeping area left behind “Fine, have fun being alone in a dark room then because I’m going.” He states and starts walking toward my room door and I hesitantly follow behind, not wanting him to go alone, he creaks the door open to check if the coast is clear, when we’re sure it is. We sneak out of my room and slip out from my apartment through the main exit door to investigate the sound further.

We peak from behind my apartment door to check what’s happening next door and our ears get suddenly assaulted by a bloody scream of a woman, I didn’t really know who could have possibly lived there since I haven’t really socialized with all of the other tenants in the apartment complex but a scream being filled with this much horror couldn’t spike anyone’s interest to help even if they don’t know the person, we both cover our ears through the duration of the bloody high-pitch scream since we were pretty close to the source of it. Suddenly, as we observe the closed neighbors apartment door and start to plan on stepping further to investigate, a woman who looks around but over the age of thirty was pushed out of the apartment, covered in blood alongside a weird mysterious liquid we could not identify as anything we’ve seen before as she holds her stomach and seems to be also holding her head to stay in place, as if it has been not fully decapitated and her still managing to stay alive somehow with such dangerous and harsh injuries, “Do you hear that?” I whisper as quiet as I can so she doesn’t catch onto our presence in the hallway, “Hear what?” “What she’s saying.” My ears quick up a soft chant coming from past her lips, quietly chanting “Let me die, please, Tagmonnan, I can’t take this torture anymore” which sends a cold shiver down my spine, Chris doesn’t seem to really pick up on the chant but I whisper the words into his ear and his reaction is the same as mine, concerned and freaked out. I softly jump as a harsh hand is suddenly lied on my shoulder, a worried whisper hitting both of our ears. “The fuck is happening here? And what are you doing here, Chris?” Both of us immediately turn our heads around to see who the mysterious person could be behind the voice and to my surprise, my eyes met the one brother I still haven’t had the chance to meet, Matthew, from what I could make out from the harsh shadows casted over my clouded vision I noticed a few piercings adoring his face with similar and almost identical features and structure to Chris & Nick’s but still had a unique twist to it, making it look different despite the similarity between the three brothers.

His barely visible black fluffy hair I could harshly make out the outline of fell over his forehead in a messy way, looking like he’s just woke up in the dark pajamas he was wearing. When he opens his mouth to talk again Chris just pulls him down next to him to hide Matt from any possible glimpse the woman could get of our presence, when he opens his mouth to ask for an explanation for all of this we quickly shush him and tell him to stay quiet with our pointer finger being pressed against the middle of our lips, he immediately stays quiet and joins us on lurking at the woman who keeps chanting under her breath and for some reason, I feel a cold pair of hands push down on my shoulders as if to shove me to the floor, I look at the guys and see their hands nowhere near my body which makes me freak out ever more than I already was, attempting to grab at the hands and push them off but I felt nothing on my shoulders but the constant weight on them stayed until I fell to the cold ground with a soft quiet thud. My breathing becomes labored as the cold hands finally leave my shoulders, the weight being lifted off them at the same time which makes me sigh in relief, my eyes look up to see the both of the guys strangely looking at me as I stay on the floor, “Viv, are you good? Why are you on the floor?” Chris asks concerned as he extends his hand to help me get up from the floor, Matt gives me a simple worried look as I get up from the floor. “I.. I don’t know actually, I’ll explain later. Now let’s focus on the task at hand.” I answer softly, feeling slightly dazed as I feel a small cold pain spread across my back, a similar feeling to the hands on my shoulders from earlier.

By the time we look back at the strange woman, she’s now gone but a bloody trail was left behind that drags through the length of the rest of the hall, all of us glance between each other with horror spreading across our faces at the horrifying sigh. “We’re way over our heads right now, we should probably go back to our apartments now and tell our parents.” Matt suggests, his voice raising to a more audible state and ready to get the actual fuck out of here, Chris seems to consider his words and nods his head positively but I show a disagreed facial expression and shake my head negatively. “We can’t tell them cause they would want to go to the police, and I know I haven’t been long here in this town but it seems we would have to handle this on our own. I don’t think a random powerful demon would come here overnight, this looks like it’s been happening for longer now and who knows if the government isnt in on all of this?” I state, attempting to prove a point that if we let anyone else know what we’re up to and that we are investigating all these strange mysterious crimes happening in the walls we sleep in each night could get us in some serious trouble, “Yeah, I kinda get where Viv is coming from. We should leave this under the covers for now,” Chris agrees, Matt also starting to consider my words and nods his head. “Okay, well I think we should go to sleep now.. I’m pretty tired y’know?” Matt adds his own word, letting out a sleepy yawn and running a lazy hand through this messy hair. “What do we think about… a sleepover?” I suggest cheerfully to lighten up the tense air surrounding us and they both nod their head and we quietly enter my apartment and retreat to my room, seeing the mess me and Chris have left behind in the still oddly empty room.

I grab some pillows and blankets from one of the boxes laying around inside of my room and create another sleeping area for Matt next to Chris’s on the floor since there isn’t much furniture inside of here, we settle down in our spots and continue to sit there and give our opinions on what possibly could have been a sensible explanation for the strange woman being attacked next door, or maybe she did it to herself? “I honestly think she did that to herself because of the chats she was saying like she was saying she wanted to die and mentioned a demon name, that’s not normal human behavior.” I conclude whatever I heard on the topic if she either did it to herself or it was done to her. When the room goes silent for a minute, Matt decides it’s his turn to voice his opinion further. “Well, I’m positive that bitch was fucking insane.” A soft chuckle is earned me and Chris, Matt joining in soon after as we nod our heads in agreement. “Yeah, obviously! She was probably possessed by that demon she was calling out to since there isn’t much evidence and just our eye witnesses, and maybe someone else who surely had to hear the loud ass noises she was makin’. “ Chris says, seeming to still be shaken up by the situation with Me and Matt both included, we started to create a plan on how we would start investigating the matter and possibly look deeper into the crime history of this building since who knows what could the landlord be hiding inside of their building. “We need a plan on how we’re gonna sneak into that room without anyone seeing us, are y’all down?” Both of them agree in unison to start mapping out a full-proof investigation, since I haven’t made any enemies with any of the other tenants and since I was new to the apartments, I would go on a hunt around the apartments tomorrow to possibly figure out something else from the people who have been living here longer than me, obviously, and besides I was happy to meet new people and find our other information that could maybe come in handy in the future of this investigation.

“Since we’re going to have Viv now occupy some of the neighbors, me and Matt could sneak into the crazy lady’s apartment next to yours, I’ve got walkie talkies back in my room so we can use that for communication but we kinda would have to stay in the same range so the signal doesn’t cut off.” Chris adds, his eyes roaming the room as if he wanted to find something as a sudden cold breeze waves over our exposed skin, my window certainly wasnt opened and I’ve read into this in the past on my moms work computer back at our old place that this could mean a possible entity or ghost was passing by us, maybe it could be the demon or something worse? I decided not to overthink it as it seemed to be the smallest issue right now and went back to the plan at hand. “I’m fine with that,” I state and we look over to Matt for his response to the plan, “Yeah me too, you guys really got me into this shit so it’s okay with me, was wanting to go into that room ever since I saw you guys outside peakin’ at it since I got woken up by that loud ass noise.” Matt states and rubs his sleepy eyes, everyone’s faces were shadowed with tiredness from all of these events coming to sit as a weight on our back and be our responsibility now to keep the other tenants save from whatever is happening here, we just know one thing that we cannot tell not let anyone in on this who we don’t trust, visible theories rise in my mind as I start analyzing Matt’s words carefully. “Since you heard that noise, there could be a possibility that we might have not been the only ones who woke up to the noise,” I speak the most vivid thought that was swirling around in my mind alongside other theories, some seeming also ridiculous as well as reasonable at the same time but I couldn’t determine which ones were and which ones weren’t with the constant feeling of pressure on my back. “That just makes this whole thing go deeper and deeper, and currently I’m not awake enough to be brainstorming this any longer now, can we talk more about this in the morning?” We seem to come to one agreement after Chris’s statement, tomorrow we’ll wake up early in the morning and discuss this forth we as all of us look like we’re going to pass out any time soon, laying our heads down on our pillows and throwing on whatever each one of us had for warmth over our bodies and slowly started to doze off, though it seemed like me and Matt had different plans.

After it was obvious that Chris went to sleep, his soft snores proving our point, I hear someone call out my name in a quiet whisper. “Pssst, Viv, you still awake?” My eyes involuntarily open as I realize it thankfully wasnt any demon but rather Matt speaking from a small distance while still lying down in his sleeping area, “Yeah, cant really sleep, I’m assuming you too?” “Yup, it seems like so, but wanna talk more about this plan? I still have so many questions in my mind it feels like it’s going to burst with how many there are.” I chuckle softly at his words, agreeing and that I also had roaming questions left inside of my mind and with that all said, we went on to talk and elaborate further on the plan for almost an hour, shared some laughs and got to know each other a little better and found out that we share a lot of the same interests like me and Chris do, he also let me in on a little secret he had which was a secret crush on a girl in his class as he was thinking about asking her out on a date but she was the complete opposite of him and they didn’t share much in common but that is what pulled Matt in the most, as from what he said and what I could decipher from the infatuated words he shared about her, it warmed my heart how fast he trusted me with this information and told me about all of the emotions he was feeling towards her. Soon we got tired enough that we soon fell asleep into deep slumber, going into the same sleeping state as Chris currently was in, sleeping completely silently and peacefully.

The Present - year 2007

I squeeze and clutch the purple crystal close to my chest, my eyes involuntarily shutting closed as I transfer from the black void into the real world after I’ve heard someone call out my name, appearing inside of an old tree house where all of my old belongings are along with myself, when I open my eyes after I feel like I can, to my surprise I see Chris’s older brother Justin who looks shocked and terrified. When I feel I have a chance to finally talk to someone who knows where the triplets could possibly be located right now, “Justin?— Please listen to me right now, you’re my last chance to actually make things right! The shit we got into is much deeper than we ever thought!” I exclaim desperately, hoping he will listen to what I have to say, he only looks at me and starts to raise his voice until it turns into a scream, seeming like his brain just couldn’t comprehend what was happening and was resorting to react with fear and irrational thoughts. “Wha- who the fuck are you? G-get away from me!” He shouts as he backs away, inching closer to the opened trap door which is the exit leading down to an almost guaranteed death, my hands raise in a desperate gesture to attempt at trying to calm him down, my tone of voice, twisting with each panicked word coming out of my mouth.

“Justin, calm down man. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack if you keep freaking out, look, you need to get the guys here, this is my only chance before I end up in the void room and they need my help!” I quickly spit out a small explanation, just praying he does not fall down that trap door, “I don’t even know you, ..ghost-lady thing! I’m probably on some heavy shit right now and don’t realize it, and what makes you think I will help you with whatever witch bullshit—“ before he could step any closer to the opened hatch I close it just in time and roll my eyes at his frustrating comments, we’ve never actually had a chance to meet each other in person but I’ve seen him around the apartments whenever he would stop by the weekends to visit his family for ‘financial support’ as Chris told me in the past, I miss them. “Just stop being so frustrating to work with and cooperate with me for gods sake, this could get you and all of the other tenants inside of the apartments murdered if you don’t.” I reveal a small detail to possibly get him to get scared and listen, I’ve already achieved him shitting his pants but I can’t follow him around and write him small letters that he would just throw out and ignore, my soul is tied to the place I’ve died at and everyone’s soul is that way, thats an explanation to why the apartments can be so long as some of the ghosts havent passed on from the rooms they were murdered at.

“Why would I believe whatever a ghost in my mind is saying?” He says defensively, still believing that he could just possibly might be high on whatever drugs right now which just makes me more frustrated but I remain calm as that is the key to make him listen to me, it’s seriously my only wish for the possible last moments before the crystals magic fades and I wouldn’t be able to transport into the real world and could be stuck in the void room for all of eternity. “Oh my fucking god, you’re not on any goddamn drugs! For gods sake, listen! You need to get the guys here before the crystals magic fades or I won’t be able to help them if I’m gone in the void room and we need to work together in order to stop this! I’m not going to fucking repeat myself again.” I urgently demand, fed up with all of his bullshit and he seems to be silenced from my words and shutting his mouth from any bitchy remark he wanted to make, finally he shut his mouth willingly. “Okay okay, calm the fuck down, ghost-lady. I’ll see what I can do.” He states in an almost annoyed tone, as if he has a reason to be annoyed right now. No wonder he and Chris never got along with each other even after all of these years, I huff and wait for him to do something but he just stands there awkwardly and kicking air with his foot, “I would prefer if you did something right now, there’s not much time left!” I exclaim in a calmer way this time with slight hopes he will actually do something than just getting my hopes up, he rolls his eyes and sighs before turning around and opening the hatch to exit the tree house, I quickly notice a small smirk playing on his lips as he climbs down and then yells while laughing like some kind of villain. “Get fucked, you bitch! I ain’t gonna do shit!” My blood boils as the words hit my ears, feeling the crystals magic slowly fading away alongside myself. I curse softly underneath my breath as my form slowly becomes more unrecognizable until I end up in the last place I would want to be in, the void room.

— 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐀’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐃 📝 : hii everyone and this is the next chapter of this new series! This is coming out a bit later than it was supposed to because I’ve gotten pretty sick lately and I’m feeling like complete shit rn but I’ll be fine so dw guys, I’m so happy to be writing this series as it really brings me joy to see you guys enjoy it as much as I do!

Ofc creds and thanks to the lovely @/colorthecosmos444 for letting me use emo!matt in this series, it’s such an honor 💗

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 🏷️ | @sturnsxplr-25 @luvvs4chriss @sturniolosweets @pussypie456 @choclatestarfishwithahat @venusxsturnio @bagsbyclair0 @sturnstvs @dykes4chris @mattsbrat @hoe4matt @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @marrykisskilled @phone4pills @emely9274 @cupiidk1lls @lily-strnlo @st9rniolo @sturniolosiphone @sophand4n4 @zombiesturniolo @luvleyangeldust @owensbabygirl @sturnina @leoslaboratory @ifwdominicfike @kiemiu @lovergirl4gracieabrams @colorthecosmos444 @trevorsgodmother |

[rebelliousstories]

Online Shopping

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: James “Bucky” Barnes x Reader

Fandom: Marvel

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Alcohol, Brief Strong Language

Word Count: 1,779

Main Masterlist: Here

Marvel Masterlist: Here

Summary: Trapped in his own home, there’s very little that he can do to express himself, or show that expression to anyone else. But Sergeant Barnes ain’t no quitter; he just has to navigate a new world.

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Going out to a physical store during the holidays was a but too much for Bucky right now. Sure, he could go into high stakes, life-threatening missions with no problem. Dealing with crazy crowds of angry shoppers trying to get their last minute gifts? Absolutely not.

However, he had yet to find the perfect gift for a certain someone. This one woman that went to the same bar that he frequented that he actually had a lot in common with. Read the same type of books, enjoyed similar music; even had the same affinity for obscure, random, useless facts.

So here Bucky was, days before Christmas, struggling to find the gift he wanted to give her without leaving the house. He was supposed to meet her at the bar Christmas Eve to spend some time together, and he was hoping to give her a present then. However, there was no way he was going to leave his apartment to go shopping.

That is, until James remembered something Sam had mentioned recently. There was shopping online. It was a brilliant idea, with just one small problem; he had no idea how it worked. Begrudgingly, Bucky tried to talk himself into contacting his partner. He knew that Sam would never let him live this down.

Forcing himself to pick up the phone, Barnes reluctantly dialed up the number. Part of him hoped that he wouldn’t pick up as they line just kept ringing and ringing and ri-

“Bucky, what’s up man?” Sam answered with a cheerful tone.

“Hey, Sam. I, um…” Bucky sighed, rolling his eyes as he talked himself into actually speak. “I need your help with something.”

“Sure, man. Whatcha need? Hold on, one sec.” There was some shuffling on the other end of the line before Sam came back on. The sound of children laughing, and people chattering came through. “Alright. What’s up?”

“Could you help me shop online?” Bucky asked, shifting from foot to foot.

“Come again?”

“I-I need to buy something and I don’t wanna go into stores right now.” He tried explaining as he paced around his apartment.

“Bucky, are you sure there isn’t someone else who could help you out? I’m on the opposite end of the country right now, man. What about that chick you’ve been talking about? The one from the bar.” Sam stared out into the vast open waters from the dock of his family home.

“Well, um… that’s who I’m getting the thing for. I kinda don’t want her knowing.” Scratching the back of his head, Bucky felt uncomfortable as he had been forced to say it aloud.

“Ooo, you sly dog, man!” Sam cheered. “Whatcha wanna get her?”

Now, there was a blush creeping up his neck from the man’s words. “A set of books.”

“Okay, now we’re working with something. You probably don’t have amazon set up yet so, can you find this set online? Like the Barnes and Nobles or Books-A-Million websites?” Wilson instructed, fully getting on board with this idea.

“Uh, yeah. Hold on.” Behind the phone, Sam could hear Bucky moving through his apartment to sit at his computer. Clacking keys, and mumbling were the only indicators that any progress was being made.

“Okay, okay. I found it on Books-A-Million. Add to cart, right?”

“Yep. See you got it man. Now, when you hit check out, you have the option of choosing whether or not to ship it or pick it up in store.” Sam continued to explain, trying to get his friend through this.

“Which do I pick?” Bucky was so confused staring at the computer.

“Whichever will get the item there faster and on time.”

“Will it say that somewhere?”

“Can you read the damn page?” Sam sighed, now, rolling his eyes.

Bucky snorted through his nose in contempt. “Alright, it says it can be at my apartment by tomorrow. What do I do now?”

“Click checkout and put in your card info.”

Some more clicking and typing occurred before James came back to the phone. “I think it’s done. Listen, um thanks Sam. I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, yeah, man,” Sam started, “I just expect to be invited to the wedding.”

“Ha ha. Bye, Sam.” The phone call was disconnected without another chance for a reply. Leaning back in the desk chair, Bucky was fiddling with his hands as he thought about what he was going to do with wrapping.

He was not the best at presents, even back in his younger days. His sister or mom would always wrap presents for him, while he could, at best, put something in a pretty bag. Bucky was not even sure if he had wrapping paper around his apartment.

Which meant he needed to go get something to make it pretty before giving it to her. Which meant having to go out into the crowds of shoppers. A memory of seeing some wrapping paper at the bodega on the corner popped into his head. Maybe James could skip the lines and crowds that made him feel anxious.

Two nights later, Bucky was standing outside of the bar that they were supposed to meet at. In his hands, a gift bag heavy with the weight of books rested. The cold December air nipped at his cheeks, and made his breath appear in front of him, but he could not just walk in just yet. He was still trying to work up the nerve to go in and meet her. This night could be the end of their friendship in one way or another if he did not play it right.

Exhaling sharply, he pushed open the door. Scanning the room, Bucky smiled as he saw her happily sitting with a few drinks in front of her at a booth. Walking up, he opened his arms just in time for her to launch herself into them.

“Bucky! I missed you. Come on, I got the first round.” She kept a beaming grin as she hugged, and led the man over to his booth.

“Hey, missed you too. Thank you.” Sliding in, he set the gift bag on the seat as he sat down. Barnes clinked his bottle against hers and took a sip.

“So what have you been up to?” And thus began their conversation that would branch off into an evening together.

He loved hearing her talk. Even if she read the dictionary, Bucky could just listen to her forever. There was something calming about it. His mind was often flooded with too many voices, too many memories; it was just too active. This was the kind of voice that he could relax to. It gave him a sense of calm he could not replicate anywhere else.

“Oh,” her voice broke him from his trance. “Before I forget, here you go.”

A gift bag was set on the table, and pushed across to him. Bucky, with wide eyes, gently grasped the handles of the bag, and pulled it closer to him.

“What is it?” He whispered, eyes tracing over the decorative paper coming from the top.

“A bomb.” Her voice was deadpan, as was her expression. Leveling her with a similar look, Bucky chuckled when he saw her beaming now.

“Open it, silly.” At her encouragement, James delicately tore into the bag. Below the tissue paper, there was a box-like object wrapped in beautiful wrapping paper. He plucked it from the bag, and turned it over in his hands, trying to figure out what it was. Tearing a stripe through the paper, the second he saw what was inside, he became giddy.

“No. You didn’t.” Resting in his hands now, was an original 1937 copy of the Hobbit. The bindings were fresh, as if someone had recently redone the book. A distinct old book smell wafted into his nose when he opened the book. Flabbergasted, Bucky shifted his gaze between the book and the woman across from him.

“You mentioned you’d like to read it again and someone at my book club was looking to sell it. He gave me a steal because we’re friends. Said his grandfather originally owned it, and brought it with him when he moved to here from Germany.” She casually explained, shrugging and taking a swig of her drink.

“I… thank you. Truly,” Bucky reached his hands across to hold hers that was on the table, “I just- I don’t know what to say besides thank you.”

“It’s not a problem, Bucky.”

“This, um-” he cleared his throat, “makes my gift a little coincidental.”

Bucky reached next to him to place the bag on the table. He sat there, with bated breath and rapt attention as she began to dive into the bag. As opposed to her gift, his was just placed inside without wrapping paper. But James at least put some pretty tissue paper on top. And yet, even without the wrapping paper on the present, she was giddily pulling the books from the bag.

“You got the entire Neon Gods set for me? Oh, Bucky…” she sighed dreamily as she held and looked over each cover and backing.

“Yeah, well. You mentioned you’d wanted to read it.” Bucky smirked, catching a glint in her eyes. He did not want to get his hopes up, but he loved that little glint.

“You’re such a sweetie. Thank you.” Getting out of her seat, she went across to his section of the booth and wrapped him in a hug. Bucky pressed his nose into her hair, enjoying the comforting feeling of her embrace.

She sat back after a moment, and looked over her books again. “I still can’t believe you got me the entire set. All I got you was a single book.”

“Hey,” he shook her lightly, “don’t do that. I love this single book. However…”

At this she perked up. “However?”

“Maybe, you’d be able to get me one more Christmas present that’s been on my wishlist,” came Bucky’s ask, albeit very hesitantly.

“What is it?”

“Would you wanna go on a date with me?”

A second of utter silence passed between them. So long that Bucky was genuinely about to retract his statement, chalking it up to a joke. A very lame joke.

“I’d love to.” She muttered, dropping her eyes down to the shirt covering his chest. James breathed a sigh of relief.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Nervous chuckles passed between the two of them as they took in the situation at hand.

“Okay, then.” Bucky threw his arm over her shoulder and pulled her in closer. He pressed a kiss to her hair as he basked in the triumph of the moment. Totally worth it in his book.

[mors-pulchritudo]

“Yeah. Thanks for that, darlin’,” Calliope said, a soft, relaxed sigh leaving her.

“Talkin’ ‘bout stuff actually did make me feel better.”

She was quiet for a moment.

“…I’ve never really told anyone about all of…that. Except my family, ‘course. Of course, it ain’t the full fleshed out story, but…” she trailed off, shaking her head.

“I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is…thank you. For bein’ here, ‘n puttin’ up with me.”

"I just want to sleep."

— @mors-pulchritudo

based on this prompt list

"I getcha," Ovis sighed. "What happened? Do you want to talk about it?"

He was currently on the phone, having decided to give her his phone number after some time.

[quicksweetdreamer]

My friend: "What’s your taste in men and women?"

Me: "I want a man I can bench press or a women that can bench press me."

My friend: "What??"

Me: "Wait I’ll show you…"

My friend: "Ok I think I get it."

[lass-us-slay]

So I read a prompt about how Wonder Woman found Danny in a trash can (don’t remember which one) and I was bored.

So I took that lil info and made it into an AU.

So basically, Danny get yeeted into this unknown universe and has no where to live. And no where to live means no money. No money means no food. No food means Danny can’t keep his human half sustained.

So what does he do?

Decides to not change into a human and live in a trash can.

Yes you heard that right, live in a trash can.

Because he’s a ghost, he doesn’t have to worry about the germs and stuff. But that doesn’t mean he lives in just any trash can! He lives in a clean one ☝️

AND he also decorated it with his name so other people know it’s his!

And so Danny has been here for a while now and realizes

Holy shit there’s hero’s here- you know what, why doesn’t he have hero’s back home?!

And being minorly annoyed jealous (but he’s never admitting that)he thought:

Well since there’s hero’s here already, guess I’m not needed.

.

.

.

Good. I’m tired af

And so Danny caries on his life, being content with his trash can and scaring whoever comes into his alley. It’s fun. Sure he sometimes needs to ugh overshadow people to feed his human side, but other than that.

It’s going great.

But Danny doesn’t realize that with Amity gone (or smth, you choose) which was his haunt, he slowly makes the trash can into his new haunt.

And slowly but surely, Danny’s beloved haunt trash can starts to become other worldly kinda.

Yk because of the ectoplasm.

So now Danny’s lovely trash can haunt has more space inside and- Hey Danny can actually sleep in it better!! And he got some company too!

In the form of blob ghosts.

Two actually.

They keep his trash can clean and help purifying some corrupted ectoplasm that he finds. Because for some reason this universe’s ectoplasm seems half way artificial and tastes a bit weird. Which is where the blob ghosts help out in.

Everything was great.

Danny was loving the trash can life style.

He has two blob ghosts friends. Which he named Sam and Tucker, and yea they couldn’t talk but that was fine.

He wasn’t lonely, he wasn’t. He had two very much talking friends like Sam and Tucker.

However one day two weirdly dressed people- oh they were hero’s.

Well anyway they found him, one woman stripper and one furry guy.

But it was on accident! He was just peaking out of his beloved haunt trash can, and they spotted him.

He stared, they stared back.

Then the woman stripper asked him questions, even when he said:

“Don’t mind me, have a nice day!”

But they just kept bother him and giving him weird looks and glances.

Which- rude.

Didn’t they see his mark on his haunt trash can? Obviously it means it’s his home, so they shouldn’t be bothering him still. He’s safe as can be.

Plus.

It’s not like he’s looking at them in suspicion and weirdness, I mean look at them! What kinda cheep knock off vampire fury mix and American stripper style clothing are those!

They should mind their own business!

———

Just a silly lil drawing of this lmao, don’t mind me.

[voilaammayi]

John Watson saying you join me and my companion/colleague/friend/flat mate while the only thing I can think of is oh please cut the bullshit.

Companion is already the gayest word in existence and yet you want to salvage yourself by flat mate in a desperate try of not using roommate which is actually nothing more than just the second gayest word in existence and you and I both know it.

Who do you think you’re fooling John, my beloved sweet summer child, only yourself I’m afraid.

[gunslinginnhogtyin]

The last thing Butch wants right now is to become one of those annoying folks who complain and gripe to the bartender about their troubles, especially if this fella was actually set on letting him buy him a drink sometime after work. It’s for this reason that after he grows quiet and Blondie begins to speak up that he’s genuinely taken aback by his words.

While he could safely assume he knew where the man stood on the matter considering the way he shrugged Darlene off so quick she didn’t have the chance to even butter him up, he doesn’t expect him to voice those thoughts or to validate how he might be feeling deep down, beyond the guilt for not being more thankful.

The rockstar is staring up at the man with large blue eyes now, remaining silent as he takes his words in and digests them. Everything he said was rather blunt, each word had meaning, and even more so his tone suggested he felt very strongly about this particular kind of thing. He can’t exactly place why and… does it really matter? Blondie was making him feel like he wasn’t crazy for having his own doubts.

Profit. That’s exactly where it felt his value lied, try as might to suppress the feeling. It’s different having someone tell him what he suspects is going on rather than gawking at him in surprise for being unappreciative of his fame. What does he even say in response? And if there was anything to say, his brain was still catching up, still turning those words over in his head and It’s for this reason that he kind of panics and he resorts to the cherry stem trick for an easy distraction from such a serious topic and he’s thoroughly amused by the reaction he earns himself.

He plucks the stem from his tongue with a lopsided smile and cackles at Blondie’s response. Gosh, he sure was cute painted all red like that, from ear to ear no less!

“Bahahah!” The cowboy busts out into laughter, “Why—did it work on ya?” He quips with a smirk before flicking the cherry stem into the trash can behind the bar table with surprising accuracy. “…Nah, I ain’t busted that ol’ trick out in a long time, heh… not since I used t’pick cherries from a tree on my Pa’s farm, an’ that was—years ‘go….so consider yerself special, I guess.” A wink follows his words, and as much as he wants to keep it all lighthearted, he he feels something needs to be said. Like he needs to address the others willingness to tell him like it is.

He falls silent again as he drinks down some more of his beverage and when he gets it all down, that’s when he’s ready to speak again.

“Ah…mm. I, ah… ‘ppreciate everythin’ y’said jus’ then… y’ain’t gotta make me feel better or nothin. That ain’t yer job. I… don’t wanna talk yer ear off ‘bout it all, but uh. Y’pretty much hit th’ nail on th’ head.“ his eyes have long dropped to his glass by now, him sliding it closer to himself. “Can I be honest with ya..? This’s, uh… still pretty new t’me. Can’t say I s’pected my music t’take me anywhere… my Pa sure didn’t.” A small laugh escapes him. “It’s… somethin’ t’learn t’adjust to fer sure, but… m’jus’ wonderin’ when I’ll feel like…” A lazy shoulder shrug. “I dunno, like I’m s’posed t’be here? S’easy t’act like I b’long but. Tch. Hell, a worked on a farm b’fore all this. Can’t say I’m a fan’f th’ pampered lifestyle as nice’s it can be sometimes. They act like some’f us’ll break f’we get too rowdy an—man, it drives me up th’ wall t’have eyes on me all th’ damn time. S’like… like bein’ treated like a kid again.” He finally voices some of his own grievances but quickly grows embarrassed by all he’s shared.

“U-Uh, y’got one helluva’n eye fer sleazebags. H-How d’ya know? I mean… when Darlene first ‘pproached me, it—heh—it felt nice hearin’ ‘er say all that.” Her opener, ‘Has anyone ever told you that you have a face for the stage?’, he recalls her saying the same thing to him when she had found him at a local event back in his home town. The excitement he felt when she talked up his talent, made him feel special, made him feel like he could have anything he wanted if he had someone representing him all the while. Like she could make it all happen. There was… nothing left on that farm for him anyway, not since his Ma had passed a few years prior to being noticed by the agent.

Artair's mouth thins as he talks but the expression he wears is one of sympathy. Wordlessly, he tops off the glass with more rye whiskey. He returns to leaning on the counter, watching Butch closely.

"Forgive me. Might be oversteppin'. But regardless what she's done fer ya, y've every right t'complain when someone does y'dirty." Artair clicks his tongue. "I know that sort. See 'em more'n enough round here. Some 'r fine enough, but some of 'em..... yer a paycheck t'em. A profit. An' that ain't nothin' t'warrant loyalty."

He sighs, before leaning down to look at him level. "I listen t'yer music. Y'got here because y'got the spark. She might've found ya, but y've probably paid her back an' then some, 'cause yer good at what y'do."

There's a brief pause, And Artair's eyes drop from Butch entirely. "Ah....jus' sayin'. Sometimes y'gotta consider what's best fer ya. Management'll always make y'feel y'owe 'em, 'cause they want y'stickin' 'round. But they ain't t'one writin' yer songs or singin' on t'stage. An' if they're treatin' ya wrong, well... up an' comer like yerself? Anyone'd be chompin' t' bit t' represent ya. Could be yer lucky. But could be if y'think y'are, she can drop last minute changes on ya and yammer yer ear off."

He's said too much, far too much, and he pulls back further, brushing back his hair. He just--- couldn't stand the idea of someone treating the outlaw-- Butch, a very real person, like that. He'd done anything he'd ever been asked until there was just none of him left to give, and it was never enough. He was never enough. Maybe this Darlene was different, but there was an insidious nature in the subtle build of expectations from a foundation of 'owing' someone. It was all too easy to assume if you just did enough, you'd be good enough. But you never would be.

But then Butch offers a trick, and he---- loses any sense of gravity or seriousness. His eyes flick between the stem and Butch's face, his eyes, and that stem and tongue a second time, longer. The longer he thinks about it, the more warm under the collar he gets, and he tugs at one of the lapels of his button-up to adjust it. "Yer---...... yer tongue's very skilled." He says it in a calm tone, but even just saying it has the heat dialed up several notches, even his ears managing to catch color. "D'ya try an' impress all t'bartenders wit' that kinda trick, Mr. Outlaw?"

[elizakai]

i love the MTTRIO because they are all judgy hypocritical little shits living off of spite and appy juice

[catwouthats]

I’m researching all the animals wolverine gets compared to so I can see which ones are most like him and to which degree they are like him.

Bro this shit is fueling headcanons…

His love language is definitely gift giving, but he wouldn’t usually say the gift is from him. It would just appear at the person’s place. Like randomly, his friends get random tiny things, and they have no fucking clue where they come from??? And things they thought they lost appear again?? They must just think they are lucky at first.